Seeing Their Not So Awesome Minds
by Kyasarina
Summary: It was a tale that struck fear into the hearts of all nations, even those who had not experienced it. It all began when Gilbert Beilshmidt found a pair of binoculars that could read minds... Complete
1. Germany's Thoughts

It was a tale that struck fear into the hearts of all nations, even those who had not experienced it. It began when the former country of Prussia was walking with Germany's dogs. He was laughing heartily as the dogs barked happily. Behind him was a path of destruction, with wailing infants, terrified cats and, well, destruction in general.

That tended to happen around him, so this was all normal. However, the turning point was when he noticed _them_. His red eyes narrowed as he saw two Asian nations talking. It was South Korea and China.

He noticed the binoculars that South Korea was looking through as soon as he could see them, of course, as Prussia's attention for details_was _awesome. He also noticed that he said that they were _not _made in Korea. A sign of the apocalypse for sure… He needed a closer look at those binoculars.

This was the starting point.

Prussia followed the Asian countries for hours. He watched them carefully as South Korea dropped the binoculars - as soon as they were gone, he sprinted over to the curious item. The dogs eagerly followed him. He picked them up, and looked through them. Nothing odd. Nothing at all. Damn. Just when he had thought his day would get more awesome-

"Gilbert!" It was West. He spun around to face his little brother, still looking through the binoculars. "Hey, West! I-" Prussia was cut off as his little brother started to _insult _him! To insult the Great, Mighty and downright _Awesome _Prussia!

"Mein Gott bruder, can you not even walk dogs properly?! You're an idiot! How the hell did-"

This was too much! "I am not an idiot!"

Germany looked confused, but he kept talking anyway. "What the hell? I never said anything! Are you as much of an idiot as Italy?" Prussia almost gasped in outrage.

"Wh-what the hell! I'm not as stupid as Italy! I took you in, _dying _from a battlefield, and this is the thanks I get?!" Prussia ran off. Germany stared after his brother. "I didn't say anything…"

But he was not heard.

It was only after Prussia had run to his house (read: Germany's) when he realised that there was writing on the binoculars.

"Mind-reading binoculars? Awesome! I'll test it out!"He decided to try and find somebody. Luckily, there was a country already in his house (read: Germany's). He was probably waiting for Germany. Prussia quickly brought the binoculars up to his eyes to stare at the nation in question.

"I wish Lovi wouldn't say that Ludwig is a bastard… why can't we all get along and eat pasta? That would be a nice world. Pasta every day! That would be nice too, ve. Eh? Gilbert? Why is he here? Ludwig said that he couldn't find you and was looking for you."

Prussia lowered the binoculars. He had obviously been seen.

"Hey, Veneziano! Good to see you." He smiled at the nation. Italy's smile grew happier and more vibrant in return.

"Ve! Good to see you too. Ludwig was looking for you~."

The memories of an hour past suddenly flooded through Prussia's mind. His good mood suddenly evaporated. "He found me. I'll see you later then, okay?"

Italy's face was confused as Prussia stalked off. "V-ve…? Where are you going…?"

"Right, let's see what the pansy ass thinks about in the darkest corners of his mind…"

Austria was playing his piano, as per usual. He couldn't seriously _just _think about musical notes all the time he was on his piano every day…

"I should really cut the maids' pay… they've been cutting corners when it come to cleaning. I will not waste money on lazy employees."

_Bo_ring. Didn't he think about anything _slightly_ exciting? I mean, come on- oh? What was this? …Well, well, _well_. A perverted grin slid across Prussia's face.

"_Roderich Edelstein_, you _naughty_, _naughty _boy~. What _would _Elizaveta think if she knew that you imagine her like that?" He gave a low wolf-whistle, just loud enough for Austria to hear. Austria whipped around, glaring at the former nation, Mariazell bobbing up and down. "Beilshmidt? What are you doing in my house? Get out."

"Aw, no need to be like that, Roddy. Can't an old friend visit your _precious _house?" Prussia smirked at the annoyed pianist. Time for a little mental torture to make him feel better from Germany's true opinion of him. Prussia laughed quietly, eyes lowered as he got closer to Austria's ear so he could whisper. "F-friend?! I assure you, Beilshmidt, that I _never _regarded you as a-"

"You know… despite being a bigger pervert than both of us put together… Elizaveta really doesn't like it when people use her in their own twisted fantasies…" he whispered, twirling the binoculars with one finger - he was too awesome to just hold them! The tips of the aristocrat's ears were turning a faint red. Prussia continued, "She _really_ doesn't like it. The frying pan's not just for me you know~. "

Austria's face now was turning slightly pinker than it had been. "I-I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. Leave my house immediately!" Prussia smirked. "Whatever you say, Roddy~."

"Don't call me th-" But Prussia was already walking out of the door. Austria let the blush spread over his cheeks as he stared disbelievingly at the man leaving his house. How had he…?

The front door slammed. Austria frowned, puzzled. He couldn't have reached the door already. It was probably Hungary coming back from doing her shopping. Interested despite himself, he crept towards the hallway, concealing himself behind a convenient giant plant that Hungary had insisted on buying thirty years ago.

"Elizaveta!" Prussia's face was as white as ice. His expression was priceless. Austria wondered why…

Austria's eyes craftily flicked towards the video recorder that he had sto- _taken away for the good of all male nations _from Hungary. It had been hidden in the plant as an unlikely hiding place (He hated dirt. He absolutely _detested _it). Undoubtedly, she had bought another, but this one was perfectly capable of recording the moment. Deftly, he flicked open the camera and hit the record button.

Prussia was making for the door when it was nearly taken off its hinges from the outside. Damn. No doubt the pansy ass would think it was him, and try and make him pay for repairs.

All thoughts of money were wiped from his mind as he realised the identity of the violent intruder. Hungary's face darkened as she saw Prussia. A desire to read her mind - a suicidal desire, but too good to pass up - came upon him.

He had to be swift if he wanted to see them. Quickly, to the bewilderment of both Hungary and the hidden Austria, he brought the binoculars up to his eyes. What he saw made his face go paler than his hair. Horror etched itself into his face as he let the binoculars fall towards the floor.

"Elizaveta!" Hungary glared at him.

"What?" she asked in a tone that made Prussia even more scared.

"I-I knew… I knew you liked that sort of stuff… and I know I'm sexy and all that… but… but… with the pansy ass?!"

Hungary's confused expression cleared to be replaced with an anger that was well known to Prussia. "Don't call Roderich a pansy ass! And where do you get off calling yourself sexy?!" She reached down into the depths of her shopping bag and pulled out a shiny new frying pan. Her eyes glinted menacingly. "Get out."

Prussia was happy to go along with her order, but his legs would not obey as he staggered towards the door. Just a few more steps… just a few more…

The agony that erupted at the back of his head told him that he was not moving fast enough. He crumpled to the floor. A boot connected with his throbbing head that launched him out onto the front steps of Austria's house.

"And stay out!" Prussia groaned with the pain.

Austria's head poked out from behind the plant. He didn't want a murder in his house, there would be far too much publicity. "I think that was a bit excessive, dear."

Hungary looked at the body on the steps. She felt slightly guilty when she looked at Prussia's battered head. She had hit him with more force than was strictly necessary. "Force of habit… I suppose you're right, Roderich… eh, Gilbert? Do you want to come inside…?"

Weakly, Prussia raised his head.

"I'm fine, really."

With that, he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.


	2. Austria's Repairing Skill

Austria reached his ex-wife's side as they gazed down at the unconscious man on their house's steps. He timidly placed his hand on Hungary's shoulder. "Did you have to smash his head in? He _was_ leaving."

"Yeah… maybe I should try and make it up to him…" She walked down the step and picked up the former nation, taking him inside the house into a guest bedroom. She undressed him and put him to bed. Austria walked toward the room as Hungary came out. She looked very guilty.

"We should call Ludwig."

"I've already called his house. Veneziano picked up. Apparently Ludwig did something to offend Gilbert while he was out walking the dogs, and he ran off back home. Veneziano was there, but as soon as he talked to him, Gilbert ran off."

Hungary looked concerned. Well, Prussia _was _a childhood friend, even if all she did nowadays was smash his head in with frying pans. Austria continued his narrative.

"Ludwig came back and foolishly told Veneziano what happened and… well, you know Veneziano. He panicked and started imagining all sorts of fates that might have befallen Gilbert. There were floods of tears apparently."

"Is Veneziano all right?" Hungary enquired. Austria remained silent for a few moments, and then answered, "He's stopped crying." Hungary looked soothed at this. She smiled. "Well, that's a start. But what did Ludwig do?"

"That's the odd thing - once Ludwig got the phone off Veneziano he told me that he only said Gilbert's name, and then nothing else! He said that Gilbert started to respond to… well… he said it seemed like he was responding to his _thoughts_, but that's impossible!"

They sighed in unison. Hungary smiled weakly. "He's always causing trouble. You'd have thought that with him not being one of us anymore that he'd have calmed down."

Austria pushed his glasses up. "But that's precisely the problem. He has far too much free time in which to cause as much chaos as he wishes. There is one thing I would like to know about though."

"Those binoculars he had?"

"You know me too well, my dear. Why would he have such a thing? And why would he look at you through them? I would have thought that he would try to run instead of testing your patience like that. There is definitely something strange about them."

"And he seemed so shocked when he looked at me through them… and with what he said, it almost seemed as though he could see what I was thinking about." Hungary flushed, and a peculiar look came into her eyes. Austria had no doubt what her thoughts had been - he _had_, after all, been married to her for some time, and he _had_ heard Prussia's commentary. It wasn't really that hard to imagine.

"I think I saw him drop them in the hallway…" Austria murmured, "shall we go down and fetch them?"

Purpose filled Hungary's face. "Yes, let's do this!"

-

Everything was hazy. Red eyes slowly opened to see a face. The crazy woman. He needed out of here. Fast. He tried to sit up, but everything seemed to spin and he collapsed back down onto the bed. The injury was still painful.

"Are you all right, Gilbert?" The words sounded strange - maybe because it was _Hungary_ that was asking after _his health_. "Aside from the painful headache, the blood and the possible memory loss, I'm fine."

Hungary frowned. "There is no blood."

"It's called sarcasm, Lizzie." Hungary scowled at him. "I was worried about you!" Well, _that_ was new.

"I was going, crazy woman! Why'd you bash my head in? What did I do?!" Hungary avoided Prussia's glare. "Force of habit…" she muttered.

"I found them…" Hungary and Prussia both sharply turned their eyes to the door. Austria was holding the binoculars gently.

"Give them to me! Give them to me now!"

Austria handed the item to Prussia, who snatched it and turned it over and over to see if any damage had been caused. He noticed it just as Austria spoke. "The lenses are smashed."

There was a heartbroken expression on Prussia's face when he looked through the broken lenses. "No… no, this can't be happening!"

Desperately, he turned the dials at the side. Nothing changed. All he could see was the cracks and some tiny shards of glass that were still attached to the rim. "The things I could have seen! The secrets I could have uncovered! The people I could have exploited!" He didn't notice the binoculars being taken from his now loose grip, so great was his misery.

Prussia's lament continued in this fashion for several minutes until he trailed off, looking over at Austria. "Eh… what's he doing?"

Hungary smiled, almost triumphantly. "Roderich is fixing your binoculars for you."

Slender, pale eyebrows rose. "Why? How can he even-?"

"There's been a few times, when he's gone to the opera, when somebody in the orchestra makes a mistake. Roderich gets really pissed off and then… _accidentally_ breaks the opera glasses. And it costs quite a bit of money to get them fixed. So he learned how to fix them to save on the repairs. And, well, that includes the lenses."

Austria glowered, obviously reliving some of the performances Hungary had mentioned in his mind. "The _pivotal _moment of the entire opera, the _pivotal moment_, and someone in the woodwind section hits the wrong note. It ruins the entire performance! They shouldn't let such amateurs into an orchestra of such repute. And that time when the first violins _completely ruined _the overture, I couldn't stop hearing it in my head for _weeks_ and _weeks_."

Prussia looked suspiciously at him. "And why would _you_ fix them, anyway?" Austria sighed. "I felt that I had some responsibility for your… injury, as it occurred in my house."

Austria tested the new lenses, and then gave a small smirk. "That means you do not have to pay for the repair work." Prussia laughed, somewhat awkwardly. "You know about them, don't you?"

"Yes. It is lucky that it was the body of them that allowed minds to be read rather than the lenses." Hungary nodded. She seemed relieved at this. Prussia had an extremely bad feeling about that emotion. Usually, it either ended with pain and suffering for him, usually caused by her frying pan. Then again, the pain and suffering _had_ already been caused.

"What do you want…?"

"Take me - us - with you." Of course. She couldn't pass up an opportunity like this. Especially not after what happened at the world conference two weeks previously. Not after the _several _happenings at the world conference. But, why with the pansy ass? Why?

He received a glare when he asked this. Neither answered. Prussia pouted and sighed and resigned himself. "Fine. But as long as you know they're _mine_. If I don't want to look at someone, or do want to look at someone, you can't stop me. Got that?" Not that there would be many that Prussia wouldn't wish to look at, but he needed _some _control over the current situation!

Hungary glowered, but accepted his terms. However, Austria did not. He stated his reasons for this clearly. "I have no wish to pry into other people's business." He _was_ touched that his ex-wife had tried to include him, but if they were caught, there would be severe repercussions that he did not want to face.

However, Prussia was not one to be treated in this manner. He had _graciously _allowed the stuck-up aristocrat to join them in their exploits, and to be refused in a way which made them seem like perverts was not to be accepted. "That's too bad," Prussia said, "Because I was planning on reading Vash's mind. Oh well, I'm sure me and Lizzie will-"

"You're going to read Va- Switzerland's mind?"

"But of course, my dear Roddy," replied a smug - and showing it - Prussia. There was silence for a few seconds as Austria tapped his fingers on the wood of the chair without making a single sound, eyes closed.

"…I suppose I cannot allow for you to both be arrested, as no doubt someone will trace it to me…" Austria sighed. Damn curiosity. He'd always wanted to know what Switzerland was thinking. And damn Prussia too, for knowing it. The latter was currently grinning as though his face would split in two.

"All right then! Let's go!" His enthusiasm rubbed off on the others. Austria even gave a small smile.

-

Hungary fidgeted. "Eh… Gilbert… can we look at-"

Hungary was cut off as Prussia seemed to remember something. "Eh! That reminds me of someone I need to read! Thanks Lizzie!"

A pause followed this as Prussia ran ahead, leaving Hungary and Austria to look at each other. "Who did I remind him of?" Austria merely shrugged and said that he had no idea. "We should follow him… he's the one with the magic binoculars-"

Prussia appeared next to them again, but with a contemplative expression on his face. "Yeah, I'm going to have to read Arthur as well… speaking of him, should we read Francis'? I mean, I don't know if I really want to… I mean, I like that stuff, but if it's _Francis _then it might be…"

Hungary cut in. "We can't just stand here all day." Prussia nodded, and pulled out a world map. He stabbed a finger at the North American continent, saying, "We'll start here. There's someone who's mind I _really _want to read here."


	3. Canada's Secret Thoughts

"Oi, Matthew," yelled Prussia, "it's me, Gilbert!"

There were quiet footsteps and then a blond head poked out, staring incredulously at his visitors. It wasn't as though you could blame him for his astonishment, as hardly anybody remembered him, let alone paid social visits. He seemed to recollect himself.

"Gilbert…?" Austria was currently doing what all aristocrats did at social gatherings, which was trying to figure out who the hell they were speaking to. Prussia showed a mock-suffering expression to him (he made sure that the nation they were visiting couldn't see him, of course) and cleared his throat dramatically.

"Of course, _no_ introductions are in order, but anyway, I present to you," Prussia grinned, "Elizaveta Héderváy - Hungary, Roddy Edelstein - Austria," Austria glared at him for the nickname, "and of course, Matthew Williams - Canada." He looked meaningfully at the two nations behind him. "Can we come in?"

"Of course, eh!" Canada invited them into the house.

"Do you have any beer?" asked Prussia. "Yeah. You gave me some at Christmas, eh. There's still some left, eh," Canada said, shyly. He wasn't used to being asked anything, or listened to at all.

"Does anyone ever tell you that you're awesome, Matt?" Canada smiled brightly at the rare compliment.

This was followed by an "oomph" as Hungary dug a _sharp _elbow into Prussia's stomach, still smiling sweetly at Canada, and under her breath, she whispered, "if you're _quite done _flirting with him…" She gestured towards the binoculars that were attached to his belt.

"Hurry up. There's a world to see."

Prussia pouted and whispered, "We're just friends…" He then had the air of a naughty schoolboy who knew exactly what his teacher wanted him to do and was determined to do the exact opposite.

"So, how've you been? Anything happened recently? I don't hear much news from over here in West's house. He won't let me watch TV, news included, he says I watch too much… it's crap, I tell you having a little brother who's stronger than you. I know how Arthur feels…" he sighed, sat down, pulled Canada down, put his arm around him and sighed again in the same movement.

* * *

Both Prussia and Canada seemed to be quite caught up in the rather one-sided conversation, so it was not difficult for Austria and Hungary to have a whispered one of their own.

"Damn it," whispered Hungary, "I have people I want to see too."

Austria nodded in agreement and said, "I only came along to see if I could read Vash's mind. I mean no offence whatsoever to… him, but I don't know him and I do not wish to know what he thinks."

Thankfully, the visit ended before drastic action had to be taken, when Canada's phone rang. He grimaced as he saw the caller ID, but smiled at Prussia, Hungary and Austria, and told them to come to his house whenever they felt like it. Prussia, smiling happily wandered out of the house, before being hit by Hungary. Even his pained cry was somewhat muted.

"Finally. I thought this was a quick stop." Prussia pouted.

"Nobody visits Matt. It's a shame, he's interesting. I had to say hello." He whipped out the binoculars.

"I'm going to read his mind now."

He tiptoed to a window and peeked over the windowsill, binoculars already at his eyes, expectant. Canada was talking on the phone. He seemed a bit angry. He slammed the phone down, and stared at it, one of his eyes twitching.

"If _one_ more person calls me America, I'm going to _kill _them. Nastily. And if they don't see me, I'll _make_ them see me. I'm going to _kill _America… how dare he claim I'm the fifty-first state. It's _all_ his fault I'm in this mess!"

During his inner monologue, Canada recalled a memory.

* * *

_It was a conference room. It was quite dark, but Canada - and therefore, Prussia - could make out the shadowy forms of several people. There was one window with brilliant white light beaming into the room. The light did not change the darkness, because directly in front of the sunbeam, America stood, facing the others, blocking it. The back of his blond head appeared to have white streaks through it because of this._

"_Who's this?" one of the nations asked, in a disjointed, floating voice. _It was Holland, thought Prussia.

"_Hm? Oh, yeah!" said America, grinning. "This is my 51__st__ state! Say hello to Canada!" he said, jokingly. _

_

* * *

_

"God. Damn. Him. Nobody believed me when I said I was a separate country. And he dared laugh at me when I complained when he phoned me. If only I got my hands on him without anybody around. I know _exactly _what I'd do." Accompanying this cheerful thought, there was a rather disturbing mental image of a screaming America being pulled apart by polar bears. Canada smiled.

Prussia lowered the binoculars.

"You have anger issues… I knew I liked you for some reason."

He turned away, and walked towards his companions, who were pointing at a map and arguing already. "Right guys, where to next? I vote-"

"You've already seen that Canada person," snapped Hungary, "it's only right that one of us gets to choose the next person." Prussia scowled at her. "We agreed they're mine! And that what I say goes," argued Prussia, "you agreed, remember?"

Austria didn't look up from the map. "I say we go to Vash…"

"I think we should go here," Hungary said, pointing at a certain place on the map. "You know, Lizzie," stated Prussia, "there's plenty of time to get around everybody. You don't have to go right away."

"But I need to see them while a fortnight ago is still fresh in their minds!" exclaimed Hungary, flushing gently. "The World Conference?" questioned Austria, "what about it?" Prussia face palmed, then ignored the musician. "How did I know you'd want to see _them_, how did I know?" he said, mock-wearily.

"Maybe because you know her." said Austria, still not entirely sure what was being meant. "And I still say we should look at Vash, so I may leave and not intrude on other people's privacy."

"Stop pretending you don't want to be here." Hungary said sharply. "You're such a hypocrite," agreed Prussia.

* * *

Austria sighed. His inner voice of reason and privacy, usually so strong, was fading into the dark recesses of his mind and was being replaced by a mad one, it was true. He gave up. Switzerland could wait. He took the next most sensible course of action.

"We're already up here. We might as well go around the countries in this continent, while we are here." Austria said staunchly. Hungary and Prussia stared at him, then at each other. "That's what I've been saying," said Prussia, keen to take credit for an idea that was not his own. He grinned, and pointed his finger southwards.

"So, Alfred then. Since he's closest." Prussia snatched the map away from Hungary, rolled it up, and shoved it in his pocket. "To America!" he cried.


	4. America's Bluntness

"His capital is next to the border, I believe," said Austria primly. "And I know for a fact that he lives there."

"Good to know…" whispered Hungary, fiddling with a handkerchief nervously. Austria looked at her. "Tell me my dear… what exactly happened at the World Conference? I remember you being very… excited when we left. And you seem to want to…"

Hungary flushed, and then smiled coyly. "You were there, Roderich, surely you could see it." She held her handkerchief up to her face to conceal her widening grin. Austria, still perplexed, let the matter drop as Prussia scurried back to them, yelling something about awesomeness, Alfred F. Jones and visas.

-

"Hi!" said America, grinning broadly. "So, you decided to visit the land of awesomeness!"

"The land of awesomeness? That would be me." retorted Prussia. America looked at him, still grinning. He didn't mean to be so nasty in his next sentence, but it just came out.

"There is no you anymore!"

There were very few phrases that would hurt Prussia. There were even fewer that would leave him speechless. Anything pertaining to the dissolution of himself would fall under the second category. "That was under the belt…" muttered Austria.

"Well, either that, or you've come for the meeting." continued America, oblivious to the callousness of his remarks.

"Meeting?" said Austria sharply. "What meeting? I've heard of no meeting. Have you, Elizaveta?"

Hungary looked abashed. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you. When I was shopping, I met Vash and Lili. They were told to tell us about it, but I forgot about it when I came home and… sorry."

Austria smiled gently at her. "It's all right, Elizaveta. Alfred, when is this meeting?"

"In two hours."

"Who will be there?" he asked, curious as to the answer. There couldn't be that many people if he hadn't heard about it from anybody.

America had to think for a minute. "Well, Iggy… Francis… definitely those two at least. Oh yeah, Ludwig and Feliks too! The commie bastard… he's bring Toris, I hear, and… eh… oh yeah! Antonio too! Vash'll be there, so maybe he'll bring Lili? I don't know about her though… and you two! Yeah, there'll be twelve of us, so there'll be someone else there as well."

Austria, Hungary, America, England, France, Germany, Poland, Russia, Lithuania, Spain, Switzerland, Liechtenstein and one other un-named nation. It was a curious set-up, one which Austria pondered on for a few seconds. What had those countries to discuss with each other? It puzzled him. What would the meeting be about?

"Arthur will be there…" said Hungary, distracting Austria from his inner questioning, innocently. "Was he staying over here any time?"

"W-what?" America seemed bemused. "Once or twice." Hungary made a sound that sounded like a 'squee'. Austria sighed inwardly. What a fangirl. His mind wandered, and he wondered if America's callous comment had really affected the dissolved nation. He hadn't made any comments, which was very unlike him. He turned around to see…

Nobody.

Where was Prussia?! To be more precise, where was his only chance of ever finding out what Switzerland really thought?

"DAMN IT!" he yelled, in a very out-of-character fashion. Hungary looked at her ex-husband in astonishment. "Roderich? What is it… oh my…" She had noticed.

"GILBERT! Wh-where the hell did he go…?! H-how am I going to-!" she stuttered in rage. "Damn him! Next time I see him, I don't care if I hit him for no reason before, I'm still going to make him wish the Teutonic Order was never formed! I'll smash his head in!"

-

Prussia slunk away. "See you," he said, smirking. Then - _there is no you anymore_!

America's less than dulcet tone came back through his head. "There is a me…" he said quietly as he hailed a taxi. He felt some guilt at leaving behind his companions, but then the image of Hungary bearing down on him with a frying pan came into his mind, unbidden, as did Austria, sneering at him.

"Where's the nearest airport?" he asked the driver.

He received the name of an airport as an answer. Prussia nodded. "Take me there then."

A few hours later, he was on a flight destined for Heathrow Airport, London, that was due to take off in about several minutes. Having friends in high places was awesome, Prussia thought to himself, as he deleted an angry text from "Lizzie". As it was "deleting… deleting… deleting…" he made out a few key words and phrases - _idiot! where r u?! get back here _- before the beautiful "message deleted" sign came up with a cheerful pinging sound.

He noticed that he had several other messages. Hm. Prussia, despite himself, decided to open them before the plane took off. He scrolled down. He had five unopened messages. Wow, he was popular today.

There was one from "Vnzno". There were two from "West", one from "Ant" and another from "France". The last, to his surprise, was from an unknown number.

He opened Italy's text first.

_Gilbert where are you? _

_Doitsu's worried! Please_

_answer! Per favore!_

Aw, how cute. He didn't use abbreviations. Ignoring Italy's plea, he deleted the message, forgetting it instantly, and then he moved on to Spain's.

_Almnia txted me. Where _

_r u? Its not lyk u 2 leav _

_him lyk that. Txt me _

_back. _

Prussia scowled and deleted that one too. Why should "Alemania" care? After all, just think about what he really thought!

_Gil, dont b bebe. Txt_

_Spagne, hes worried abt_

_u._

Prussia sighed. _Francis_, he silently willed inside his head, _stay out of my awesome business_. _That goes for you too, Antonio_. Delete.

_Bruder_-

Prussia deleted Germany's text automatically.

_East- _

Delete!

And then, all that was left was the unknown text. Prussia stared at it for about four seconds. His thumb moved towards the delete button, but then stopped, and wandered over to the button that would allow him to read the text-

-and the engines revved for the second time that day in Prussia's ears. Startled, he turned off his phone and slipped it in his pocket as the plane started to move.

It was then that he realised what a precious opportunity he had had, that had slipped through his fingers because of a stupid little comment. "Damn it," he said disbelievingly, "I forgot to see what Alfred thought!"

That's what he'd come to America to do, after all. He mentally slapped himself. And then- "Damn it again!" England was at the goddamn meeting! In America! He was flying to a deserted country!

-

**Please Review!**


	5. Prussia's Imprisonment

The airport had been packed, Prussia had noticed. He had got elbowed in the stomach about six times before he even got out of the plane - six _painful_ times. Honestly, couldn't humans put more thought into those standing next to them? Awesome should not be jostled with elbows. It was a simple fact of life.

And while Prussia inwardly complained, he was pulled along by the force of the crowd through security. All those machines and beeps really grated on his nerves. He wanted to go home… oh no, wait. Germany would be there, wouldn't he. No doubt all snuggled up with a weeping Italy.

Not that he didn't think it was cute that West had finally found someone, but couples and kissing and snuggling made him feel lonely. Awesome has to make sacrifices to remain awesome and single.

Surprisingly, he managed to pull himself together. So? So what if West thought he was an idiot? He'd said it often enough, hadn't he? Prussia had just never thought that that was… well, that that was what he really did think.

He'd thought his little brother thought he was awesome. Was that too much to expect? Well? Was it? He sighed as he walked through the metal detector. Of course, it went off. What basically happened next was that they tried to take away his Iron Cross.

Well, he wasn't having any of that.

That was why he was currently alone in a holding cell in a foreign country. They had overreacted, just a tad, Prussia thought, annoyed already. So what if he had hit the guy?

England was out of his country as well. Brilliant. Bloody brilliant, as England might have said, if he was there. So now, he had to wait.

…_Gott_ this was so boring.

"Oi, Spikey," he yelled at his guard, "When can I get out?" The guard ignored him.

"Just because you're moping over your girlfriend dumping you, doesn't mean you can just ignore me!"The guard turned, startled by the sentence.

"H-how- why- how d'you know that?!"

On the plus side, he still had those beautiful lenses.

-

Meanwhile, in America, the meeting was about to get started. Austria was getting very impatient. This showed by the way he continually fiddled with his glasses. He tapped his fingers in a complicated pattern and with his other hand he fixed his glasses.

He nearly jumped a metre into the air when a hand clutched his shoulder. Cold seeped into Austria's bones. A childish voice giggled.

"Ah," a voice said, "Austria is here, da?"

"Ah… R-Russia…" Austria stammered.

"The meeting is nearly started, da? Shall we go in?"

"I-I'll just be a m-minute…" Russia smiled at this, creepily, as his smiles always were. "Good!" Russia laughed again, and walked through the door of America's private conference room.

Well, somebody was in a good mood.

Austria stayed outside until he had no alternative but to go in. Waiting, annoyed.

-

"Niyo-niyo-niyo-niyo-niyo-niyo-niyo…" laughed Prussia, attempting to freak out the guard. Which he did.

"S-stop that now!"

"Kesesesesesesesese…"

"Stop that too." the guard said nervously. This guy was insane. He hoped he'd be relieved of duty soon…

"Niyo-"

"I said stop it!" Inwardly, the guard cried, but he put on a brave face.

-

As Prussia tormented the poor guard, who was only doing his job, Austria sat down next to Hungary. To his left was Liechtenstein. So Switzerland had really brought her. He looked across the table, then quickly looked down again. Yes, he was here. What a perfect opportunity - wasted. He made a note to ask about the whereabouts of the nearest grand piano to vent his frustration after the meeting.

Germany smacked the papers in front of him.

"We're all here," he said primly, "So, kindly tell me, what are we here to discuss? I have work to get back to." He glared across the table at nobody in particular and muttered, "And a brother to find…"

Hungary looked down the table, her eyes flicking past each nation. France and Spain… herself and Austria… Germany. Poland and Russia…

She made a strange sense out of it all. America… well, he wouldn't be left out of anything, would he? Switzerland lived near him, and had, grudgingly, known him quite well and had been the one to bring Liechtenstein. Lithuania had known him well in the days when he had lived with Poland - or maybe Russia - or Poland - had brought him along. And England made sense, considering how long he had been around…

Yes, it had become clear to her what the reason was for these nations to gather together.

The only questions left where "why now?" and "what for?"

-

Prussia scowled. "Can't I at least have my phone back?"

"No," the guard said. "It's against the rules."

"Look, can't I call someone?"

"Will it shut you up?" Technically, he should have waited and asked a higher-up guard, but this crazy albino…

"_Ja_."

"Fine then. Catch." The guard flung the phone at Prussia, who laughed and caught it with ease. Back to messages. He reached the mysterious unknown text, and clicked on it, wondering who it could be.

-

"It has been clear." said Austria. "To me, for some time. The person behind the reason is simple, and can be guessed easily. My question is, who called this meeting? Why now? And, what ever for?"

The table was silent until a single voice broke the silence, proclaiming that they had called the meeting. Austria felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had really hoped it wasn't that person…


	6. Russia's Meeting

"I called the meeting," Russia said, smiling. "About Gilbert Beilshmidt - as you thought, _da_?"

He looked at Austria. "D-da - I mean yes," Austria corrected himself. "Well… why… has- has the meeting been… called?" There was something about the imposing Russian that made one stutter, thought Austria. It was most disconcerting.

"I heard that Gilbert has disappeared from Ludwig's house, _da_? That's right, _da_?"

A muscle clenched in Germany's cheek. "_J-ja_," he acquiesced. It was true, after all.

"It seems that Gilbert is not happy living with Ludwig, _da_?"

Ludwig was infuriated by this callous comment. "No! He does like living with me!"

"Then why did he disappear with no warning?" Russia asked, innocent expression firmly in place. Germany was dumbfounded. How could Russia have heard about this so quickly? Maybe it was better not to ask…

Lithuania looked guiltily at Poland and Germany. "…Sorry… I had to…" he said, under his breath.

"I- I do- do not agree with Ivan," said Spain, very bravely, considering that it _was_ Russia. "Gilbert has always talked about how he is proud of Ludwig."

Germany was touched. Really?

"_Oui_," said France. "I agree with _Espagna_. He is always saying this or that-" His arms flailed about to emphasise the point, "-about his _petit frère_."

Russia, still smiling benevolently, despite the contradictory feeling of menace coming from him, touched Lithuania's shoulder. Lithuania shivered, and said, "M-Mr. Russia w-wants to have G-G-Gilbert s-stay in his h-house…"

"_Was_?!" Germany yelled, astonished and angry. "_N-nein_!" The room buzzed with frantic conversation and tension.

"But Russia-" said England, attempting to bring order in place of the currently enraged German "-there's no proof that Gilbert is not happy living with his brother - and we decided that he could live with Ludwig after he ran away from- ran away… from…"

Russia's violet eyes bored holes into England. "_Da_?"

"Y-y-you…"

"_Da_?" The menacing aura increased amazingly. England shifted his chair away from Russia.

"W-well yes! Th-that is what happened."

"That was nearly twenty years ago, _da_? Gilbert was perfectly fine living with me until the Soviet Union-" Russia grimaced, an unusual display of emotion, "-dissolved."

"More scared to run away!" said America, deciding to finally join in - for once he had waited before joining in. "so you couldn't take out his punishment on the rest of the USSR!" England balked inwardly. Was America crazy, saying things like that to Russia's face?!

"Scared?" said Russia. "He isn't scared of running away - he stayed in Siberia for two weeks without food, isn't that right, Roderich?"

Austria jumped. "Ah- yes… two weeks and two days, I believe."

"_Da_. And he ran away from Ludwig, _da_?" He looked at England to finish his point for him, smiling.

"S-so it's perfectly logical to p-presume that Gilbert has no qualms about running away…" England shivered, feeling like a Baltic. Personally, he thought that Prussia would think before running, but he wasn't foolish/brave enough, like America, to stand up to the fear-inducing Russian.

"_Da_, Arthur!" Russia said, happily, "I agree." His smile grew wider, causing chills to run down the spines of those in his cold presence.

By this time, Germany had controlled his anger slightly, and had calmed down enough to call for a short break, in which he could collect himself. He was not going to let Russia take Prussia, after the incident in Siberia.

The incident in Siberia. He only knew the sparse details of the matter, but he did know that Prussia had run away from Russia after the USSR collapsed. He had seen a chance, it seemed, when he and Russia had gone to Siberia, to visit a prison there.

He had run off, and nothing was seen of him until he had somehow managed to get to Austria's house, in a state that would have killed a normal human, somehow managing to pass through Siberia, the inhabited West of Russia, the Ukraine, Slovakia and the Czech Republic before making a wrong turning.

Germany gritted his teeth. Russia… he would not let Prussia be taken again by him! Prussia… where was he?

* * *

Prussia blinked, startled as another text pinged into his phone. He opened the first one.

_I think that this_

_meeting is about _

_you. Just to tell _

_you. Roderich_

The pansy ass aristocrat! And… he thought the meeting was about Prussia? Hm. He opened the next text, which was longer, but still impeccably typed.

_It is. Russia wants_

_you to live in his house_

_again-_

_-  
_

A chill crept through Prussia at the mention of that man's name. _Nein_! They couldn't!

-

_-most of the table _

_disagreed but _

_couldn't say _

_anything. Run or_

_go back to_

_Ludwig._

_Roderich_

_-  
_

But he was stuck in a cell! He texted this information to Austria, and could almost see his face.

-

_Then stay out of_

_trouble in future. _

_-  
_

Well that was helpful.

-

_Danke, that's so_

_helpful._

_-  
_

_It's not as though_

_I can do _

_anything about_

_it._

* * *

Austria scowled. Idiot. He'd managed to get himself imprisoned. He may as well try to help him, as it was Russia who was taking an interest in him. Austria would wish nobody that, even Prussia. He scanned the room to see if he could spot England. There he was, America blathering away to him, no doubt annoying him.

He primly asked if he could have a word with England. A private word, he added, looking pointedly at America who walked away with an expression like one that you would see on a kicked puppy. Austria felt no sympathy for him. England needed to talk to other people besides him.

America watched them as Austria spoke, picking out phrases. "Gilbert… London… get out… away… Ivan… something…"

England nodded. "Anything… get away… meeting… Ivan… Alfred…"

America perked up at the mention of his name. "…scared… me…" said England, who despite having pride and dignity, knew that everybody was scared by Russia, and that he was not alone in his fear of the large nation. He had no qualms about divulging information to one who was in the exact circumstances as himself - as Austria was.

America, of course, got the wrong impression from this, being quick to jump to conclusions. "I scare him…?" he said quietly, astounded at this startling revelation which he had misinterpreted entirely. "He'd even leave a meeting…? No way…" he reasoned, "he never leaves meetings… but he is… so do I?" Several people looked at America strangely as he muttered to himself, edging away.

Austria nodded, and walked back into the meeting room as Germany called for them to reconvene. England quickly turned to America.

"I need to leave the meeting early," he said, "give my apologies to-"

"No problem," said America bluntly. "That's fine." He turned his back on England and moved towards the door to the meeting.

England was surprised at the America's harshness, but left immediately anyway, stopping once to glance back at the suddenly serious nation. He frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but America stormed back into the meeting, slamming the door. England winced slightly, although he had no idea why, berating himself for the instinct as soon as he did it.

* * *

_Arthur's leaving the_

_meeting early to_

_get you out._

_

* * *

_

"…_Danke_, I suppose… but you're still a stuck-up prissy aristocrat."


	7. England's Influence

Prussia was jolted awake from his light slumber by a voice berating him, but strangely, it was not Germany as usual. He had to think for a few moments to remember where he was. London, wasn't it?

"It comes as no surprise to me that you managed to get yourself banged up," said the familiar voice, "But this must be a record. You didn't even get out the aeroplane."

"I did. I was in the airport, actually," said Prussia, "And it's not a record. Second best, maybe - you know there was this time when they arrested me mid-fli-"

"Gilbert, I don't care if you take this the wrong way, but I don't care," said England. "Let him out now," he said to the new guard, who must have replaced the traumatised one. "He is a guest of Her Majesty."

"Now see 'ere! There's a procedure we 'ave to-" objected the guard, who faltered as England glared at him, who started shaking an identification card at him.

"There are no problems. He is free to go," said England. "Please, if you have any enquiries to make, feel free to contact your local Member of Parliament and ask them. That's what they are there for."

And England would make sure that they had no objections to Prussia's release. Yes, he could do that. He was his people, after all, and his people were him.

The guard still looked unconvinced. England stared at him. "I take full responsibility for this," England said. "And if any trouble arises, it shall be on my shoulders and nobody else's. Which it will not."

England was exasperated as the guard signed a paper slowly, being too hesitant for England's tastes. "My good sir, I am an extremely busy man. I would greatly appreciate it if you hurried up this tiresome procedure. I have other business to attend to."

"It's weird how you use longer words when you get more pissed off," remarked Prussia.

"Belt up, git." the Englishman snapped.

"Or smaller ones."

* * *

Finally, they were free of the constabulary, and walking down a narrow lane. "Well that was a complete and utter waste of my time," said England. "Honestly, Gilbert."

"How'd the meeting go?" asked Prussia, more anxious to hear about his impending fate than England's ranting. "What did they decide? Do they think I'm going back to that house?!" His tone showed that he was not going to entertain the very notion of going to Russia's house.

England raised his impressive eyebrows. "Keeping ourselves informed, are we? And I missed the second part of the meeting thanks to the little trick you pulled. Roderich asked me to collect you," he explained.

"I know," said Prussia.

"Ah," realised England. "He is your informant."

"_Ja_," admitted Prussia.

"As far as I know, the proposal was not a popular one among those there," said England, turning around a corner into a wider and busier street. "But Ivan has a way of getting exactly what he wants."

Prussia's expression darkened considerably. "_Ja_, I know the one," he growled. "He intimidates people, and scares them into submission."

"Not at all like you would be happy to be able to do," England stated sarcastically. "We would all wish for an ability like that."

"But we don't have it," Prussia admitted grudgingly. "So there's no point in admiring him for it." A muscle in his cheek clenched. "Because I'm doomed by it." His face turned gloomy. Even Awesome gets depressed when Russians attempt to kidnap them.

"Alfred is there," said England, trying to be encouraging. "And for some reason, he is not afraid of Ivan. Do not give up hope."

"Alfred~?" The teasing glint returned to Prussia's eyes. "Look who popped up randomly in the conversation."

* * *

"I have no idea what you are talking about." _What the hell? What does he mean, "look who turned up in the conversation"? I'm merely attempting to brighten the atmosphere! And who knows, Alfred may well stop Ivan in his relentless pursuit of him! It's one of those things he seems to be capable of, which nobody else can even try do! It's a simple fact! A fact, blast it!_

"Wow, you think in a lot of exclamation marks," remarked Prussia.

_What the hell do you mean?! _"What _are_ you going on about, Gilbert!?" England snapped. _And also… damn it! Why the hell is he pointing those god damn binoculars at my face? Is he blind, or something?_

"Are you blind, or something?" snapped England. "Stop pointing those binoculars at my face!"

"This is fascinating, as you might say…" said Prussia, grinning, still looking through the machine. "A look into your thought process…"

"Wh-what was that, git?!" asked England, annoyed and confused "Give those here!"

"_Nein_! Give it back!" said Prussia, shocked at the speed at which England could snatch something away. "They're mine! Mine!"

"Cor blimey!" exclaimed England, slipping into a Cockney way of speaking as he gazed through the pair. He tended to do that when extremely surprised. "What the bleedin' 'ell is this!?"

"_Scheiße_…" muttered Prussia.

_Not another one… why can't I have them for myself? First the Hungarian madwoman and prissy aristocrat and now the- Arthur. He can see your thoughts. Think nothing… Gilbird is awesome, awesome, awesome! I'm as awesome as a little bird… Gilbird, Gilbird, Gilbird! Ah, he's putting them down. The awesome can relax now. Maybe… just maybe, he didn't work them properly…_

_

* * *

  
_

"What the Gypsy Nell is 'Gilbird'?" asked England.

No such luck. "An awesome little chick," explained Prussia.

"…" England did not say anything, and instead merely looked at the Prussian."An actual little chick. A bird…" Prussia said. "An actual bird. Fluffy and yellow. An actual, real bird-"

"I understand the concept of the wildlife that fly," said England, Cockney being replaced by his normal upper-class accent. "However…" he said, "I do not understand how a pair of simple binoculars can see into the mind of another."

"I don't get it either," admitted Prussia. "I just go with it."

"How much mayhem have you caused with these?" enquired England. He might as well know what he was getting into, and if this seemingly innocent device would get him into trouble. He was a responsible gentleman on the surface, after all. It would not do to have that image destroyed.

"…I don't know," said Prussia. "Probably not as much as I usually would have. They were on my tail."

"So," said England. "From what I… heard, Elizaveta and Roderich are aware of the existence of your psychic contraption."

"…_Ja_. But I didn't tell them!" insisted Gilbert. "She hit me with her frying pan and stole the binoculars! Then she broke them! …And then _he _fixed them, but that's beside the point," he said, side-stepping the dangerous issue of whether he like those two. Which he did not. Of course.

"You expect me…" said England, "To remain silent about this potentially lethal information gaining device." He grinned that pirate grin which scared a lot of people.

"…_Nein_," said Prussia. He could see where this was going, and he didn't like it. Not again, he thought, not after Austria-Hungary.

"Indeed," said England as he tossed the binoculars back. "You can see my request now through those. Well… my right, as it were."

His grin intensified, his eyes narrowed and his entire demeanour seemed more… dangerous.


	8. And England's Adventurous Streak

**Sorry it's so late :(**

**

* * *

**

"…Him? Really?" asked Prussia. He was surprised.

_Yes. The Yank acted strangely at the meeting when I slipped off to get you out._

"And you care _because_…?" asked Prussia, teasingly.

_He was once my colony _started England. _So… so…_

_A barren wasteland of a field. Grey sky. Cold rain pouring down the red uniform. Blue uniforms lining up. Shouted orders. Pain. Hurt. Resentment. Sheer and utter hatr-_

_Pain-_

_Hurt-  
_

England batted the binoculars away, shocked at how easily the dark and painful memory had slipped back from the dusty cupboard of the unbearable past.

Prussia held onto the device, but let it hang at his side. He had enough on his plate, he reasoned, with Russia's dastardly plans, the shadow of Hungary's looming frying pan of pain (this time, no doubt, to be smashed onto his head with Austria's full blessing) and England's unspoken threats of telling all nations of Prussia's new and awesome powers if he did not comply with England's requests.

Yes, he had enough on his plate without adding to it England's emotional and painful experiences of rebellious colonies and split feelings towards the same nation. Yes, he felt sympathy for the old Empire, who used to be so awesome, and didn't know how the pain could run so deep for one nation.

England was his old friend. More so than most of Europe, in fact, actually, when you went through them all. He was quite an awesome guy, after all, once you got past the stuff that wasn't awesome. And therefore, he felt that he should really try and help the Englishman. But, first things first, two psychos - namely, Russia and Hungary - were in different ways, on the warpath in his direction. Russia was the more important to deal with.

"Do we have a deal, Gilbert?" asked looked at England. His old friend. A good drinking buddy. Quite trustworthy. Scored higher than quite a few people on the awesome scale.

"We do indeed. Pleasure doing business with you," he said.

"You should be aware," said England, "That if, like Roderich and Elizaveta, you run off on me, I will not hesitate to inform _everybody _of this ability." Light glinted off his eyes. The old pirate spirit was awakening, realised Prussia, although it had yet to start to emerge from the gentlemanly habits. Well, awesome. This should be fun.

"_Sehr gut_." he said. "Then, let's go."

"Let's," said England. He laughed. "Onwards then." He strode off with an air that he had not possessed in a long time.

"…So where are we going? I'm not going back to Alfred," said Prussia flatly. "Russia," he added, by way of explanation.

England thought for a moment, and then hit upon an idea. "Well then, why don't we head off to one of your friends' houses? Ivan will never think of checking there, it's too obvious."

"Nobody knows how his minds works though."

"So nobody does. He could come here any time," England pointed out. "He might have figured out exactly why I left and is now, having caught a plane here, creepily wandering up my garden path saying 'become one' multiple times, and generally withering the roses out of sheer fear and the chill he brings."

Prussia thought about this for a moment, then nodded. "But," he said, "Francis and Antonio were at the meeting."

"They will be heading back home just now probably. And I need to book some Eurostar tickets - it takes more than a few minutes to get to the frog, you know. We'll get there at about the same time, I should think."

"Eurostar…? Oh, _ja_, that underground tunnel between you and Francis. Channel Tunnel? Chunnel? Whatever."

"Precisely," said England.

"Why can't we just catch a plane?"

"Ivan Braginsky and his technique of finding people easily."

"…_Ja_."

"Gilbert, I've booked the tickets for ten tonight. We'd better head off now, it's already six. We've got a lot of ground to cover - Gilbert, wake up."

He'd had no sleep for two days in a row, give him a break.


	9. France's Romantic Advice

The journey was long and mostly boring. Prussia spent most of it throwing crumbs onto the hair of the woman in front of him, laughing at the irate comments he got from England. She hadn't noticed, so what was the point of apologising? England hadn't stopped glaring at him the whole way. And Prussia had thought he was lightening up! _Nein_, he wasn't. Pity.

The train was slowing down. Prussia fidgeted around in his seat. Finally, they were nearly there!

France's heart. Paris. The city of love - romance - whatever. The thought was quite disturbing actually, being in France's heart. England looked around warily. This was seeming like less of a good idea than it had when he was confident in his _own _heart, but now… not so much.

Prussia was having no such qualms and second thoughts as he turned his map this way and that.

"Right," said England, ignoring the voices in his head that screamed to turn back now before he was doomed. "Have you found the frog's house yet?"

"_Ja_. It's… here… well, here-ish…" Prussia stabbed the map with his finger. "I think."

"Wonderful," muttered England.

"Oi, England. Stop being such a downer. We're going to get blackmail on Francis. Surely that makes even you happy."

A smile crept over England's face. "Well… it would be nice - well, splendid really. There is one thing though."

Prussia tilted his head slightly to the left. "What?"

"I thought you were his friend. Why are you so happy about it?"

"And he was happy with the terms he gave me in the Treaty of Versailles. Made my life hell. It's the same difference to me. It's always been like this I guess… friends until we get the chance to annihilate the other one."

"What a loving and compassionate man you are, Gilbert Beilshmidt."

"So we take… this line… to this station… then we change to this line, and we walk two streets and turn… right."

"Isn't that left?"

"And then we're there. Come on!"

"My Underground is much better than that… thing," grumbled England.

Prussia nodded. "This is his Paris house…" he said. "Hope he's home… I dunno where the rest of them are." He brought up his fist and seemed to try and crack the door with it.

"_Oui, oui_!" said the French accent which was becoming louder and louder. "Do not try and break my door, if you please. That door is older than whoever you are!"

"I somehow doubt that," said England, his need to respond scathingly to France overcoming his desire to run away and pretend that he had never come. France was silent for a few moments, but then the door swung wide open to reveal his… rather frightening and predatory grin.

"_Angleterre_," he cooed seductively. "Well, this is a…" he whispered, "surprising event. Oh," he added ungraciously. "You're here too, _Prusse_. Ah well, _mes amis et rosbif_…"

"There's only two of us to greet you bleedin' idiot. Messing up your own language-"

"Ah _- non, rosbif_. It has escaped your simple notice that Pierre 'as returned from _Espagne_. You see 'im now, _oui_?"

France's parrot swooped onto France's shoulder. "Let us see what _Espagne _'as said in reply… ah _non_. I didn't think so. Ah, well…"

"What did Ant say?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, _mon cher Prusse_," said France condescendingly. "Come in…" he said slowly, turning and walking back into his house.

England stood where he was. "Gilbert," he said in a high voice, "maybe we should leave…"

But Prussia was walking in. He laughed at England's suggestion. "C'mon, Arthur," he said grinning. "The awesome me is here - if Francis tries to do anything to you, I'll have an excuse to kick him where it hurts, _ja_?"

For once, he was acting like the knight he used to be.

"…W-well, all right then… but only if you promise that you will…" England hated himself at that moment. Look at him, the once powerful head of the once largest empire in the world at that time, reduced to relying on a dissolved nation.

* * *

"Wine…?" asked France when Prussia was lounging on a comfy red sofa and England had perched awkwardly on a matching velvety wine-red faced a dilemma. Wine would cloud his senses if France tried something… but despite the Frenchman's many failings, he made extremely good alcohol… and Prussia had said… but one should never trust too lightly… it was Prussia… and he was already having a glass. Oh, what the hell.

"Yes," he said abruptly, "I'll have a glass."

Prussia had slumped on the couch, and was lightly snoring.

"Good God…" said England. "Since when does one nation… ahem… one _once_ a nation need so much sleep?"

"Ah, _rosbif_," sighed France. "You know the new torments the world has now heaped upon our _copain_."

"Russia. Frog-"

"Ah, _rosbif_, it is serious matters we must discuss. _S'il te plaît_, just call me Francis as you once did when the world was young and you still cute."

"…Bloody Francis."

"That's better, Arthur." A jolt went through England as the Frenchman said his name. It was so unusual… nigh unexpected. "Now then… down to business, _oui_?"

"…Indeed."

"As you are aware, from being at the meeting, _Russe _wished for _Prusse_ to once again live with him. And this time, with no Soviet Union… he would be at the non-existent mercy of _Russe_… practically alone."

"What a terrible thing," said England, careful to be concerned, but not let his guard down.

"For once, we agree," said France. "The table disagreed, but only _Espagne_, _Allemagne_ and myself disagreed strongly.""He was staring straight at me, what would you have done? But, no, wait! What about-"

Ignoring England, France went on. "After you left, _Amérique_ complied with the demands of Russe. He is helping him as we speak."

* * *

England started and stood up, grabbing the collar of France's designer white shirt.

"WHAT? No, he's a stupid, ungrateful brat, but he wouldn't do something like this! Before the break, he was vehemently against it - you have to be playing a sick joke."

France remained silent. England hissed. "No… I refused to believe such a thing. Alfred… would never…"

"'Ahaha!" laughed France. "You thought, maybe, I was serious? Got you, _non_? _Amérique _would not let _Russe_ do anything. _Russe _is most furious."

"You bloody frog! Why the hell would you say something like that!"

"Your face, it was _magnifique_. You really don't know, yet you act like you do… yet, like one who does not yet know… It is puzzling to _moi_." France sipped his wine, grin splitting his face. "You are a complex one, _mon cher_."

"Don't know what?"

"Ahaha…! Why…" France broke off to laugh his laugh again. "It's priceless."

"Just what do you mean, France?" asked England angrily.

_Why, you are in love with _Amérique, mon cher_! You are an idiot to think otherwise, _non_? 'Onestly. The only one who is denser that you on this matter is your _amour_, _Amérique! _Alas, it is a deep shame I cannot tell you. I would love to see your face if you knew. It's true, _tu aimes l'Amérique.

"You are in love with _moi_, _non_?"said France. "I see it in your eyes, _mon cher_. Longing. Passion I couldn't believe a _rosbif_ like you could- _Angleterre_…?"

England was staring in absolute horror at France. France's insides turned cold. He couldn't… be right in his joke… surely?

"_A-Angleterre_… it was a jest… no, you are… you can't actually… have…"

"I am not in love with that jerk!" yelled England. "Not now, not ever!" …France had _never_ heard England use the word "jerk". It was a bewildering aspect.

"_Angleterre_… I never said…" _I merely thought… wait, this means he is not in love with me. Oh, _Dieu merci_. _

"I hate him! He's an idiot, and an ungrateful twat, and I… dislike him very much. He doesn't try to understand… understand…! Doesn't… think before he acts, even when it affects others… he's impetuous… and rarely has any good ideas about what to do! He thinks he's the best despite the fact that… he just… isn't. He's the most egotistical man I've ever had the misfortune to come into contact with. Whenever I try to be his friend he just laughs in my face and goes off to befriend animals and aliens and… he dislikes me anyway."

France was shocked. "Angleterre…" he said, but his thoughts were more triumphant. _I was right of course. Listen to _Angleterre_, it's so obvious. _

"I hate him," England whimpered. "I do… I swear it."

"No you don't, _Angleterre_. You may wish for that to be the case, but that is simply a lie. Listen to yourself - find the reasons you 'despise' _Amérique_'s qualities, and maybe you will come to realise that you merely hurt when they cause him to turn away from you. Think about it."

"What the hell… are you… trying to say…!" choked England.

"Crying will not change the truth, _mon cher_. I will leave you to yourself - this is an upheaval, _non_? - and I shall see you in the morning. _Bonne nuit, Angleterre_. Sweet dreams…"

"Aren't you going to give us a bed!" exclaimed Prussia, who had woken up and had just got over the groggy feeling. "What time is it anyway?"

"_Non _and two in the morning. I don't feel _that_ sorry for you. Unless you choose to share my…?"

"_Nein_."

"You're lucky I chose not to pick up a lover for tonight, or you would be out of my house altogether, _Prusse_. _Bonne nuit_ to you too though. Pleasant dreams…"


	10. Holy Rome's Legacy

**Thanks for all the reviews. They're appreciated :) Oh, and I don' t own Hetalia. **

**

* * *

**

As the sun slowly started to spread its warm rays over Paris, England was pacing, his eyebrows scrunched together. His face bore the expression of pain. He had only been pacing for a few hours. Before that he had sat, pain still etched into his face, repeating the phrase 'no way' and other, similar phrases, with as many expletives as it was possible to fit around those couple of words.

"Bloody hell, why'd it have to be him? Shit! God damn it all," he cursed. "Good morning, Gilbert," he said genially, interrupting his cursing to observe the normal pleasantries of society. Then, he resumed his crude monologue until he was again interrupted.

"Did Francis screw you last night, or something?" asked Prussia. England froze, turned, and stared at his companion. Was the man crazy?

"Good heavens, no," snapped England. He couldn't be arsed using the swearwords he had been muttering for at least four hours, so settled for a politer expression of disdain.

"Then what's got you so-"

"Do _not_ ask," said England. "Do _not_ ask."

Prussia didn't ask. "Did you find anything out?"

"Pardon?" asked England. He was far away, thinking. What did this mean? This… discovery. How could he ever talk to America again, after realising the reason why he couldn't refuse anything the twat said? The reason he'd always been annoyed at any other alliances America made?

"Francis. Secrets. You know? Blackmail stuff."

"Oh… no, I apologise." France had found blackmail on England, not the other way around. Maybe he wasn't cut out for this.

"_Sheisse_… we can always stick around for a bit."

"Hm. I suppose so…" muttered England. "We can't leave here without blackmail. Although, it will be hard to find any, as he is so shameless."

"Don't be so sure," said Prussia. He laughed as England looked at him incredulously - and curiously. "There won't be any on his 'exploits', but what about the rest of him?"

England got it. "I see what you're driving at," he said with a smile. "The non-perverted side of him, as tiny as it is, should hold a few unpleasant memories for him."

"Exactly."

* * *

"These will work, _da_?" Russia's ever-cheerful voice made nearly everyone in the room shiver.

"If they do not work, I'll make him disappear," a scratchy voice said from behind Russia. "For insulting brother…" Russia looked uncomfortable as Belarus, holding the sharp knife that was so dear to her, glided over to his left. She looked up at her older brother, something that might be adoration in her eyes. "Brother…" she whispered hoarsely.

"_Da_," Russia said quickly. Ukraine, tears in her eyes, held the Japanese binoculars tightly.

"But, Ivan… Kiku said that the last ones he designed didn't work, and he didn't test these ones…"

"If they don't work, I'll kill him," said Belarus emotionlessly. "I've already said that, Katyusha."

Ukraine shivered.

"Don't say things like that, Natalya…" Ukraine sometimes wondered how her siblings had turned out the way they had. Was it because of her? Had she done something wrong as she had raised them? They had both gone mad, after all, and the two were the only ones she had looked after.

Belarus ignored her older sister to look again at Russia. "I promise, brother," she said.

Russia nodded quickly. "_Da_, _da_!" he said quickly, moving away so she couldn't latch onto his arm. Coat flapping, he looked, smiling all the time, at a large screen. "_Spasibo, moï dorogoï drug_…" he said childishly. "It's really so very nice of you~"

He giggled.

* * *

_My sword is stained with a child's blood. _Mais_, 'e is a nation. A child nation, yet a nation. And that makes it better, _oui_? Does it make it better? _Merde_. What am I going to tell _petit l'Italie_? The truth would be best. In this world, it is best for the young to rid themselves of naivety, _non_?_

Mais… _what if she 'ates me? Ah, why do I care? Italie is a nation like 'im. She should see that the world is not all good. It will dangerous for her if she continues only to see the best in people._

Oui_. It's for the best, _oui_?_

_I 'ope she does not cry._

_

* * *

_

Prussia scowled. "That was so depressing. Don't have the heart to blackmail him about something like that."

"…I didn't know that he killed the Holy Roman Empire…" said England quietly. "All I knew was that the Holy Roman Empire… disappeared." Prussia was quiet, an unusual occurrence. England looked at him. "Gilbert?"

"Of course he killed the Holy Roman Empire…! No other conclusion you can possibly come too, eh? Let's go to Ant's house now!"

"Antonio's house? Why?" There were very good reasons why Prussia needed to get out of this house now. About _three_ of them. One, he needed to get away from this house. He couldn't stick around for long anywhere, what with Russia on his tail. Second-

"_Gilbert_. _Maria_. _Beilshmidt_…" said a very pissed off voice as the door _shattered_. "You'd better have made your peace with God, because I'm going to kill you _right_ here. _Right now_!"

-was the terrifying voice cursing in what Prussia could only describe as Hungarian.

* * *

_Russian - Spasibo, moï dorogoï drug_

English - Thank you, my dear friend. _  
_


	11. Hungary's Rage

He really didn't want to have to deal with this. Hungary, breathing heavily, glared at Prussia.

"You… asshole! Why the hell did you leave us behind!" No! Prussia needed to think of something!

"Where's the… I mean, Austria? Roderich?"

"Huh?" Hungary looked around. "I could of sworn he was right- oh no you don't!" But realisation came too late as she whipped back around. Prussia had disappeared again.

"Where's he gone, Arthur?"

"M-m-me? Ehm, I-I'm not sure," said England unconvincingly. Hungary glared at him for a bit, then sighed.

Austria walked in briskly and asked, "Where's Gilbert?" rubbing his glasses wearily.

"Gone, dammit," muttered Hungary.

"Wait," said Austria, "Isn't that him up there?"And right enough, Austria pointed to the ceiling. France, in one of his dramatic moods, had decided to make the ceiling of his hallway wooden with beams and arches creating a beautiful effect of grandeur, elegance and too much money to spend. It was useful for hiding in if you could actually get up there - it was easy to hide above one of the dark beams. It wasn't strong enough to hold for long, though. Hungary, though impressed by the agility and sheer speed Prussia would need to get up there in two seconds flat, growled.

"Gilbert! Get down here now!" she yelled, presenting the stone that she had picked up off the ground, just in case she needed to knock her childhood foe into submission again. Not that she was likely to use it, having already nearly killed Prussia two days previously, but it was still a threat. Prussia cursed the spirits who were cursing him to failure and unluckiness.

But before anything could happen, a cracking sound made Prussia's blood run cold for what was approximately the fifteenth time since he'd picked up the binoculars. Were they cursed or something?

"_Ach Gott_!" screamed Prussia.

"Gilbert!" yelled Austria, panicking slightly. This was more likely to kill him that the other scrapes he'd got into. Austria, with heroism he wasn't known for, ran underneath Prussia - then with the pragmatism he was more known for, realised it wouldn't do any good, and walked back again.

"Idiot!" yelled England.

"Arthur?" squeaked Prussia. But, after all, England had been a sailor, knew how to climb rigging. The now crudely knifed French eighteenth century tapestry that had covered one wall was as good a handhold as any to a pirate with more that fifty years of experience.

"_Mon dieu_!" screamed France as he rushed out to see the holes in the antique. The Frenchman's scream seemed to set off the complete break in the wood.

"Gilbert!" yelled Austria and England at the same moment. Hungary ran out as the man fell. But it was too late - he fell and smashed into the ground, his last thought of how he hated cheap wood.

* * *

"Oh, that had to hurt," said Russia, Belarus and Ukraine still hovering around. "It's really so very nice of you to locate him for me like this for me, Hungary~ Austria~. And unconscious too! Ah, I'd almost think you were doing it on purpose to make it easy~. Kol… kol… kol…"

* * *

"Maybe we should just travel with him like we were going to before he ran off," Austria suggested to his ex-wife as England and France tended to the accident-prone Prussia's wounds.

"I was never going to do anything otherwise," said Hungary, blushing. She covered her cheeks with her hands quickly. "Let's go to… Kiku's house- or Heracles's… or Antonio or Roman- I mean, the Italy house…"

Prussia, who was getting used to being knocked out was regaining consciousness rather quickly.

"Or what about Alfred's house again…? Oh! Or Feliks and Toris's house…" Nobody could interrupt the fangirl.

Except… "Elizaveta… why are you talking in pairs of names?" Prussia knew fine well _why_. He'd seen her mind - he mentally shivered. "Heracles and your… the guy who shares your… hobby… Ant and his cute little ex-henchman… the guys who had a union." He grinned smarmily.

Hungary death-glared him. "Shut up!"

France muttered a bit. "What are you talking about, _mes amis_?" he wanted to know.

_Aaahh! No way can we let a guy like him know! But… I guess, we kinda have the same idea of what we'd use it for D: I compared myself to France *pout*_ Hungary blushed and looked ashamed of herself.

_No way can we allow him to know. _Austria glared at Prussia. _Don't even think about it. _

_D: Crap! Let's get out of here…! _England's emoticon matched his expression perfectly.

Prussia grinned. "I get the hint you guys. Hey, Francis! Want to come to Ant's house with us?"

_! D: _England's face turned deathly white and he seemed to choke on thin air.

_N-nein! Nein! Y-You can't- you bastard! Why are you bringing him!_ Fingers twitching more jerkily than they usually did, Austria hissed quietly.

_Nem! Nem! Nem! Nem! _Hungary thought, death-glaring at Prussia. _Nem! Nem! Nem! NEM! NEM! NEM! NEM! NEM! NE- _

Prussia lowered the binoculars. That was enough of the _nems _and _neins_ and nos. He grinned and walked to the door, wincing in pain as he remembered that he'd fallen a considerable height.

"_Mais, Espagne_, it might not be a good time - _pour moi _- to visit him," admitted France.

England's emoticon face dissolved to make a thoughtful one. "That's right…" he realised. "When we first got here - you'd received a reply from Spain on the awful bird of yours. What was it?"

"It was none of your business, _Angleterre_," said France, "like it's none of anybody's but mine. And _Espagne_ too, _oui_. And 'is too I- none of your business."

"His too…" said Austria, firm in his conviction that he was the only sane person in the room and therefore he could find out France's deal with Spain though logic and trickery. "Somebody else's business, along with Antonio and Francis… not Gilbert, though it would make sense. Not Arthur, myself or Elizaveta. Hm…"

England, still a deathly shade of pale glanced towards the door in a panic. "Let's go," he muttered to Austria and Hungary. They all tried to inch towards the door inconspicuously.

"Let's go!" said Prussia, walking past them. "Come on Francis!"

"Hm. Well, 'e probably won't realise what I… ah, 'e probably won't 'ave."


	12. Spain's Tomato Fields

**Aah! Sorry the update's so late. I've had to study for exams and I didn't realise how long it had been since I updated this fic until I caught a glance of the "last updated" in the preview. :( This chapter's kind of short but it sets up for the next chapter so... yeah...**

* * *

The sun shone down on Spain's tomato field. Spain closed his eyes and breathed in the country air. Aaah~ Country air was so nice once you'd stayed in a city for a while~

He breathed out again and grinned widely. He loved his tomato fields. They were wide and expansive, in the countryside where he could escape the worries of being a nation. And his worries worried him, his seemingly-never-ending cheerfulness could only take so much. And the tomato field were full of life that he was helping to take care of and nurture!

And it was the one thing that Romano liked to do with him. The only thing Romano ever did that he could do with a tiny smile on his face. Tomatoes reminded Spain of Romano. Romano's face looked like one of those delicious fruits of the tomato plant, especially when he ate them, it was so easy to compare them! Growing them was the one thing that they did together without Romano complaining or moaning.

It was the one thing that Spain had brought back from any conquest that Romano had liked. The one thing Romano liked him for.

Spain's smile slid away. "Romanito…"

"Oi, Antonio!"

Spain looked around to see the group wandering through the tomato vines. Hm? What were they all doing here? Prussia? Austria? Hungary? (Another question - why did she look so excited?) For that matter, what was Prussia doing being near the Austrian and Hungarian without being killed? And _England_ and _France_? Walking next to each other_? Not arguing_? (they weren't talking at all, but that was beside the point)

Wait.

France was here? France was coming here, trampling through his tomato fields (Romanito…) after what he had said in that letter? (Romano…) Pushing past the plants he had tended lovingly. Did he just step on one? _Did he_?

_C-Calm down! What's got into me? I can't act like I used to back when I were an empire…! I promised I would never act like that again! Why'd he have to come now? _Mierda_, you have bad timing, Francis Bonnefoy._

Prussia hesitated. "You guys, maybe we should come back later."

Everyone stared at him in shock. "No way!" snorted Hungary. "You're the one who said we should come here, weren't you?"

Was he? Prussia thought about it. Yeah, that was right, it had been him. But anyway. "I don't think it's a good idea to be 'round him just now," he said truthfully.

"What _are_ you talking about, _Prusse_?"

"You should _know_ that, Francis, apparently it's something to do with you," Prussia whispered into France's ear.

"_Moi_?" squawked France.

"You," hissed Prussia. "What the hell did you say to Ant in that letter?"

"I- I cannot say," stuttered France. "I'm sorry, but I can't say what I wrote. I wasn't being arrogant when I said I could not tell you before."

"You _were _being arrogant," England interrupted. "Just because what you said was true doesn't mean you weren't."

"What 'e said."

_Prussia's here too - no, Antonio! You can't think what he said was true! But why would he lie? Why would he lie? There has to be a reason - it can't be true - he's… he's my friend…_

Prussia's breath hitched.

_They've all stopped… that's weird. Maybe I should just pretend I didn't notice them and they'll go? Go away, por favor?_

England, putting together that Prussia was reading Spain's mind with his insistence that they leave, said, "I agree, we should leave…"

France sighed. "I'm afraid, _Angleterre_, that Elizaveta and Roderich 'ave already gone over to Antonio."

"For Gott's sake," hissed Prussia, "Why is everything going wrong for me? This stupid thing!" And with that, he threw the binoculars down with enough force to crack some of the new glass. "I was joking before - but these are cursed," he spat. "They really are! There's no other explanation for everything that's happened to me! If I keep them, Ivan'll find me for sure, I just know it. They're too much of a temptation to risk myself."

England and France were dismayed at Prussia's words. "But Gilbert, it must be coincidence! There's no such thing as curses!" was France's input.

"Take that thing. It's not like I was ordered to use it."

"Gil-"

"I'm _not_ going back to Ivan. I'll do anything to _not_ go back to Siberia." France flinched at Prussia's suddenly monotonic voice. "And 'anything' includes giving up those. I'm _never_ going to go _back_. _Ever_."

Prussia glared at France, like he was daring him to say anything. When nothing was said, Prussia's shoulders slumped. "Oh, man… we'd better go over since those _Arschlöcher _are trying to make everything worse."

France nodded and smiled in his own French way, wandering over to Spain. England stood still, so Prussia looked over at him. "Aren't you going, Arthur?"

But England turned and looked at him with a sort of… thoughtful look on his face. Like he was one step from unravelling a master plan.


	13. The Plot's Complexity

_France sighed. "I'm afraid, Angleterre, that Elizaveta and Roderich 'ave already gone over to Antonio."_

_"For Gott's sake," hissed Prussia, "Why is everything going wrong for me? This stupid thing! Oh, man… we'd better go over since those Arschlöcher are trying to make everything worse."_

_France nodded and smiled in his own French way, wandering over to Spain. England stood still, so Prussia looked over at him. "Aren't you going, Arthur?"_

_But England turned and looked at him with a sort of… thoughtful look on his face. Like he was one step from unravelling a master plan._

_

* * *

_

"Is he going to act like his old self? If so, I'm not." Oh yeah. England had fought many a time against Spain when he was in a conquistador mood.

"_Ja_," said Prussia honestly. "If Francis mentions anything about that letter - and if I go over there, it'll be me whose going to die."

"Did you see what it was that the frog wrote?"

"_Nein_, but from what I made out, it can't be good. He's ready to tear Francis and somehow me to shreds, but he's holding himself back. He's trying to not act like he used to." Prussia looked over at Spain, then looked away. Spain… he still beat himself up for that. Prussia hadn't known.

"France must have said something about you in his letter then."

"Something about Lovino Vargas," said Prussia by way of explanation. "I saw his face in Ant's thoughts all the time about the letter. And there was a protective feeling there too."

Understanding filled England's face. "Romano… of course. He's the only thing that he can't let anything bad happen to." Then horror followed. "Oh my God… he's the only thing nowadays that Antonio would lose control over - if he was threatened in any way!" Then the panic started to set in. "The conquistador's about to come out."

"_Ja_, and his number two target is me. Let's just add that to my list of problems that I've somehow managed to get since a few days ago." Seriously, his luck had taken a serious nosedive. It was like karma had said 'OK, every tiny piece of luck you've ever had is getting repaid, bitch!"

"But-" here it was, the unanswered questions that just kept adding up "-why would France send him a letter like that? Surely he doesn't… _want_ Antonio to lose it- I mean, lose control of himself…!"

"You're smart Arthur, figure it out," Prussia grumbled. "Take your time, I really don't want to have to go over there. _Stalling equals good_."

"France was blackmailed by Ivan!" England blurted out in a fit of inspiration. Russia was a good place to start unravelling plot ends.

"That doesn't make much sense," argued Prussia. "Why didn't he tell us if that was what happened?""He wanted to have moral high ground over me," England guessed. "Ivan forced me to take his side during the meeting, and he wanted to have that over me."

Prussia looked at him with an expression which said 'yeah, right, sure.' "And what about his mood? When the bird came back, what was he like?"

"He seemed normal, not like that madman was forcing him into anything. It just seemed like normal correspondence, I suppose. Wait…" _Come on, Arthur, show me why you've got so many made up detectives. Help me sort out this mess so we see what the _hell_ is going on. _…What if it wasn't Ivan who was blackmailing him?"

Prussia pouted. "Come on, that's-"

"What if Ivan blackmailed somebody… to try and make the frog send a letter like that to Antonio - you said that Antonio now has a repressed grudge against France and you, correct? Ivan wouldn't be immediately implicated and France would have less of a reason to suspect that it was to break up your protection."

"Well, _ja_, Ant's thoughts are going to the homicidal, but- wait, my protection?"

"It might be the right time to tell you that only three people spoke directly against you returning to Ivan."

"Only three-?" said Prussia, outraged.

"Can you guess who they were?"

"Well, I guess… _mein Bruder_, I'd hope," muttered Prussia.

"And?"

"And Antonio and Francis?" Prussia guessed. Austria had told him who was all there.

"Correct."

There was silence for a few moments as realisation broke over the cloudy fog of confusion in Prussia's head like the sun. "What you're saying is - you can't be - _mein Gott_, it makes a sick sort of sense! The letter is to break away at an alliance they have against Ivan!"

_That's what I _said_. _"One other piece of evidence which might make it make even more sense, if you wouldn't mind me saying it."

"What evidence?" snarled Prussia, "What's this evidence?"

"You know that everybody at the meeting was somebody who had something to do with you, Gilbert.""Well… _ja_."

"I was there, and I know there was someone who was scared and shaking and didn't want to be there! Somebody who Ivan knew had something to do with you and would fit in perfectly! Someone who shouldn't have been with Ivan but everyone thought it was normal for him to be with. Was _used_ to seeing him with. It drew no attention. An old member of the Soviet Union, perhaps?"

"Toris. Toris Lorinaitis," hissed Prussia. "He's too scared of Russia to say 'no' to him! But…_ nein_," he said forcefully. "Toris? He…"

"No, it's not Toris, I'm sure of it. Actually, you're not the only one who Roderich kept informed."

"Austria kept you updated?"

"I… was worried… about Alfred. He acted so odd before I had to leave. When Roderich asked me to come and bail you out of jail I asked him to keep an eye of Alfred." England scowled. He had let go of a lot of pride to ask the favour. "Alfred, apparently, grew vicious after the break, always attacking Ivan verbally, finding flaws and exploiting them for all they were worth."

Was that… _pride_ in England's voice?

"Roderich told me that he noticed something about Ivan- he never let Toris leave his side even for a second."

England paused meaningfully.

"Never let him escape- I mean leave his side- actually, _nein_, didn't let him escape! He's a hostage!"

England smiled. "Exactly. Toris had no opportunity to speak to France. He was a hostage -so _somebody else _would. He was brought to that meeting, shaking and scared, so someone could see him like that - as Ivan's prisoner. It wouldn't be strange for anybody else to see him there, as he knew you like everyone else knew you."

"It was Ivan who called the meeting," said Prussia hoarsely. "He made sure the people who were there all had the same common denominator - knowing me - so that he would- but wait a minute!"

"Yes?"

"This is getting way too complicated, you're not explaining one thing."

"What?"

"How would Ivan know? How would Ivan know that Ant and Francis were going to be the ones who spoke out? How could he know-"

"There was somebody for everyone there. Antonio and Francis were the ones most likely to speak out against him so he _needed _there to be a plan against them more than anyone else."

"Hold on - someone for everyone?"

"Why the hell do you think Liechtenstein was there?" said England triumphantly. "We assumed that Vash brought her, but _she was invited _and hell would freeze over before Vash let his sister know that she was a bargaining chip and not invited as a true nation. Vash would never hurt her feelings. Toris was dragged along to have a suitable hostage for _everybody_."

"Seriously man, I can see why you've got so many detective stories," said Prussia appreciatively. "Then… if there's someone for everyone, it could have been anyone who blackmailed Francis-"

"But there's less people who could have done it. Means, motive and _opportunity_. We can affirm this with Roderich who brought along a video-camera that he borrowed from his wife."

"He brought a camera to record the meeting?" said Prussia disbelievingly.

"Well, it was coincidence, really. You're not as unlucky as you supposed you were, Gilbert Beilshmidt."

Prussia glanced down at the unlucky binoculars. Then he looked back up, looked straight at England. "Who was it? Who was it who was blackmailed by Ivan to blackmail Francis to make Antonio not want to stand up for me?"

"The one way to find out who it was with no doubt at all is to see the film of the meeting - but Toris was the hostage. Think about it. He was the only one who, by the end of the meeting, was still basically attached to Ivan."

"Oh! I know who it was now," said Prussia. "It was him, it was Feliks Łukiesiewicz!"

"Yes, that's what I… wait," said England, "they're calling us over."

"Is Francis _smiling_?"

"He doesn't have mind reading powers. This is seriously bad. Hey, Arthur. Do you think…" Prussia went quiet. "Do you think that Antonio… he's always been thinking like that?"

"I hope not, and I don't think so," replied England. "Personally, I think he's normally fine but sometimes his other side comes out. It would be too… I don't know."

"We'd better go over. _Sheisse, sheisse, scheisse_…"


	14. Romano's Italian Spirit

Romano was currently driving his Vespa through the streets of Madrid. Why the hell was he in Madrid, you ask? N-no reason at all. It was just… Spain had asked him to come, OK? Romano hadn't been actually asked to come in ages and it felt kind of… nice. Not that he liked Spain asking him over, it was damn inconvenient, but… still.

It had been unexpected, Romano admitted. Almost suspicious - that was the "Mafioso" instinct talking, but it was suspicious, okay?

"_Meet me at the _Plaza de España, por favor_? There's something we need to talk about."_

A well-known place… it wasn't really like Spain, Romano thought suspiciously. Normally… well normally they didn't meet in Madrid. It was usually Rome, mainly the Spanish Steps. Not because they were Spanish, just because they were easy to meet at. No he didn't get lost in the crowds, damn it.

He was nearly at the square. Damn, he was thirsty, there were cafes and stuff there, right? Well hopefully at least-

**Don't go to the square. **

The instinct was strong and scary. A chill ran down Romano's back.

"_Dannazione_…" he muttered. That feeling… had saved him from a lot of things. **Don't drink from that cup**. Another guest choking to their death by poison. **Fake an injury or illness! Quickly, **_**babbu**_**! **A spectacular military defeat with the deaths of thousands. **Don't go outside today. **_They_ are looking for a Vargas. A coward's instinct to run from danger? If it was so, Romano thanked God for it. He still had his head thanks to it. Trust the feeling.

The Vespa turned and headed back away from the _plaza_.

* * *

"Antonio," said England nervously. "G-good to, um, see you."

"_Inglaterra_," said Spain amicably. _What's he thinking? Is he thinking of… doing things to us while he chats with us? He looks so friendly…_

Chill England. Seriously it's like one minute you're acting the badass pirate and then you're a nervous wreck… but Spain… whoa, this is something I didn't need to get involved in. Hungary glared at Prussia. _The thought-reader, come on_.

Well, this was awkward. We need a distraction. Wait, no! Bad plan! Distraction probably equals Russia and that is something I don't need!

* * *

"…Like, Italy, I need you to like, tell me where your brother is."

"Feliks~?" Italy's voice drifted through the phone. "Why?"

"I'm sorry it's - it's - I just like, really need to know where he is, if I don't then…"

"_Mi dispiace_…" said Italy sadly. "I really don't know. He left without telling me where he was going."

"Like, wh-when was this?"

Italy thought about it. "Two days ago," he said. "He left after me though~ I came to Germany's house four days ago.

"Was Prussia there?"

"He came, then ran away. I don't know where he went, but I was scared but _signor_ Austria told me that everything was fine so I stopped crying."

"Like, that's good. You, like, shouldn't cry. It makes other people, like, really sad."

"Really?"

"Like, yeah, really."

* * *

The feeling hadn't gone away. It felt like there was something looming over Romano, a metaphorical shadowy figure that disappeared every time he looked around.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Liet…" muttered Poland into one of his may ponies' mane. "I can't protect you from Russia. Like, at all. I'm such a…"

He sniffed. "Not crying. Don't have the right. I'm sorry, you wouldn't want me to go and sort out Russia's plans for him but… *sniff*."

"Have you found any sign of South Italy?"

Poland's acid eyes burned into the pale figure standing in the doorway. "No. There's no way. I tried everyone who knows him." Belarus' face didn't change yet her eyes became more scary. "Don't even think about doing anything to Liet!" Poland managed to get out.

"Do you have another way of helping brother?"

"Uh…" said Poland, panicking. W-What else could he do?

* * *

"Russia."

"America. A good meeting, _da_?"

"What are you still doing here? Aren't you supposed to be-"

"I was home… then I came back. It was lonely, you see, ever since…"

America scowled. "If this is some cheap sympathy shot about loneliness being a good enough reason to take back GDR into your house…"

Russia looked surprised… acted surprised? "I don't know what you mean America," he said sweetly. "I just came to remind you. Now is the time to be with those you want."

"…Dude," said America disbelievingly. "Are you trying to be a matchmaker or something like that? 'Cause let me tell you, I've-"

"_Nyet_, nothing like that, America. Just… advice." Russia smiled happily. "Good deeds make the world go around, _da_?"

* * *

Romano growled in annoyance. Was someone stalking him? What that it? He cast a glance around him, behind him. There were a lot of people. Could be anyone.

Romano swore under his breath. This was creepy, damn it! He had to get out of here, the feeling was too strong. Where could he go? **Don't go home, **_**babbu**_**. If someone's looking for you, that'll be where they look next! Were you dropped at birth?**

"Where else then?" snapped Romano - quietly.

…**Um… Somewhere close?**

"C'mon _Sicilia_," he urged. It probably was Sicily talking in his head if it kept using the Sicilian dialect for insults, yeah? **Yes, **_**babbu**_**. **

"Quit calling me stupid when _you _can't think of a way to get out of this." **I'll think of a way to get out of this, damn it! Just… keep going while I think.**

"_Che palle_…"

**Benelux. **Benelux? Why? They'll think of going there… **Probably, but it's the best I've got that'll not draw attention to the fact you're there. **Whatever. Wait, you mean I've got to go all the way through that _bastardo_ France? _Che palle_…

* * *

Unbeknownst to Romano, France wasn't having a good time and he wasn't in… France.

"What are you talking about France? If that wasn't what you meant, what _did _you mean?"

France waved his hands in front of him. "I don't know, Antonio!"

"Romano's an independent nation with Italia. You don't go joking about things like that!"

"Subjugation?" hissed England. "Oh my God, France you complete idiot." _To anybody else it would be bad enough. To Spain? About Romano? Bluntly enough for him to get it?_

France looked away shamefully. He looked up, then down again as he met pissed-off Spanish eyes.

"It… was because of… 'im."

England blinked. So did everyone else. "'Im? I mean, him? Who?"

"'E asked me to send a prank letter to _Espagne_… 'e sounded so scared, like something terrible would 'appen if I didn't comply… it was strange, I thought for sure this was one of the… em… more unstable nations who had put 'im in the situation for a joke… I didn't want to leave 'im to 'is fate…"

"Who?"

"…P-_Pologne_…"

"We were… right…" hissed Prussia. "It's him, it was him!"

"When _Pologne_ asked, 'e… sounded so scared! 'E offered everything! I didn't think it would be that big a deal, we would meet and sort it out while I help some people and get rewarded… _Espagne_, I didn't… _Prusse_ really had no intentions on Romano…"

"Feliks!" said England triumphantly. "I knew it. If Russia threatened Toris… Russia. He's quite the chess-master. What will happen now," he said, suddenly worried. "If Antonio sticks by us… Toris and Katyusha…"

"We'll have to rescue them. It's not awesome to leave them."

Spain smiled. "I'm glad that was cleared up!" he said happily. "We should go and rescue them! We'll be the Rescue Force!"

"We'll have to think of a better name," muttered Hungary, who felt a bit left out.


	15. Belgium's Fencing Skill

"Hey there Lovino! What are you doing here?"

"_Buongiornio, _Alice," said Romano politely. "I think I'm being stalked so I didn't want to go home in case someone tries to murder me." This was all said quietly.

"Are you in trouble with the mafia again?" asked Belgium when they were inside. One of the only people who was a genuine friend to Romano. Uncharacteristic though it seemed, Romano was polite and mannerly around women and truthful around Belgium, being a female and a rare friend.

"I didn't think so… until I must be."

"Sounds interesting."

"_Sì_…"

"You decide to make my home a target for them," Belgium said seriously. Then she grinned. "Well, I'm already making waffles, so make yourself comfortable. Abel's here too, just so you know. I think Lux _might_ be here. Either that or he's off visiting Kosovo. He _totally _likes him, you know."

The first country decided to make his appearance as his name was spoken. He looked down at Romano. Romano looked up at him.

"_Hallo_."

"_Ciao_."

The pleasantries were over and done with. Mentally, Romano heaved a sigh of relief. They had all lived together at one point back in Spain's house, but the Netherlands was still intimidating, even if they'd worked together at some points trying to mess up Spain's house. Good times, good times.

"You guys, they're ready!" yelled Belgium. A smaller person appeared beside her. "Oh, there you are, Lux."

Soon afterwards, they were all eating Belgium's delicious waffles. Good idea Sicily. **I know.**

**

* * *

**

Ukraine sniffed as she cried. "I'm sorry Romano, I'm sorry Russia, I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I can't do anything right. I'm sorry Prussia, Canada."

She looked at the map of Madrid through watery eyes. "I lost him… I'm sorry I was following you in the first place…!"

"Sister," said a voice from behind Ukraine. Ukraine jumped around. There was Belarus and an ill-looking Poland. "Natalya? Feliks?"

"Come, sister. I know where he is."

* * *

"Let me get this straight. You were being followed while you were in the capital of the _pokkelijder_." Romano nodded. The Netherlands looked thoughtful as he bit his waffle. "Hm."

"Don't call Antonio that, Abel," said Belgium reprovingly.

"Whatever, _zusje_," said the Netherlands, knowing all too well how bloody a row with Belgium could get. "Did you see who it was? You never know, it might have been the _pokkelijder_ himself."

"You never listen to me, Abel, even though I have to cook for you because you'd probably die if I didn't. You're always too high to cook! And then you insult my intelligence all the time."

Luxembourg's head hit the table. "Not this again…"

"_Een_, I'm not _always_ high. And _twee_, everyone insults your intelligence."

Belgium looked angry. "Hmph," was all that she said.

"It wasn't Spain. He'd just have said hello. I was going to meet him after all…" said Romano, trying to defuse the tension.

"We could always phone Antonio up and ask him if he felt anyone in his house. Just a suggestion."

"Not now, _zusje_… wait," the Netherlands corrected himself. "That's _actually_ a good idea."

"Actually?" said Belgium, offended. "Anyway, I'll go phone him now." She left. The two men sat waiting.

"Well, that was anticlimactic-"

The sound of something smashing the glass of one of the living room windows interrupted the Netherlands, who dove out of the way when he saw the ornate knife fly through the air towards him. His head crashed into the wall and he was knocked unconscious. "Who's there!" yelled Luxembourg in a panic.

"Like, I'm totes sorry about the window, that was, like, that crazy bitch Belarus," Poland apologised.

"Feliks? Where the hell did you come from?" yelled Romano, frightened at the Pole's sudden appearance.

"I, like, picked the back door lock, duh. I was trying to lose Natalya. Didn't work."

"Natalya's here? Why?" asked Luxembourg curiously. He was interrupted by Belarus's voice, demanding that they hand her Lovino Vargas.

"Me? Why?" asked Romano, scared. "It was you who followed me, wasn't it?" he added in a gasp.

"No, I'm sorry, that was me," said the Ukraine, who followed her sister, crying all the while. "I'm so sorry, Romano!"

Belarus surveyed them all calmly before grabbing Romano who was too scared to resist. "You're coming with me," she said harshly. Ukraine sobbed. Poland looked incredibly guilty.

Luxembourg cowered under the table, eyes fixed on the knife in the wall that had gone straight through the window. Belarus plucked it out of the wall. "Sorry," she said to the unconscious figure of the Netherlands. "I didn't know you'd leap that far."

_This is it. This is how I meet my end. Veneciano, please, look after my people. And don't pick tomatoes early, not late either. Why didn't I tell you about the right way to pick a tomato when I had the chance? Spain, please teach him the ways. There is no salvation for me-_

"Unless there is," Ukraine said quietly. Romano looked at her quizzically. Belarus stared at her sister, then flicked her knife up, ready to defend herself.

A door flew open as a furious Belgium stormed back in. In her hand was a sword she had picked up from her armoury when she'd heard smashing. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, looking like she was going to kill the intruders. "Having a nice family lunch with a friend and this is what I come back to?" Pointing the sword at Belarus, she said three words coldly:

"Explain yourself, Arlovskaya."

* * *

Prussia, Spain, France, England, Hungary and Austria all sat in Spain's house. They had decided to regroup and re-plan.

"So." Thus Prussia began the meeting.

"So," said England.

"Yes…" said Austria.

"What shall we do?" asked France.

"Hm," said Hungary. "We could try and trace the maker of those mid-readers."

"It's not to do with them anymore, Elizaveta. It's bigger than that. Ivan-"

"Yes, but I don't see how else we can move forward."

"Point sustained," said England. "Although we could try and recruit more nations to our cause beforehand."

"Good idea, _Inglaterra_! Who do you think would join us?"

"Does anyone have any suggestions? Poland and Lithuania are a no-go."

"Switzerland?"

"…Yeah, right. No way he'll come out of neutrality."

"The other Baltics?"

"Maybe."

* * *

The Belarusian and the Belgian circled each other, weapons outstretched. "Well? Answer me!"

"Katyusha, take the Italian to Ivan. I'll deal with this."

"Ivan?" hissed Belgium questioningly. "What has Lovino to do with Ivan?"

"That is none of your business, Van Dijk."

The use of the name that Belgium had ignored for all these years ignited her anger. "The only name I use nowadays, Arlovskaya, is _Janssens_."

Belarus bowed her head in acknowledgement, but then said, "I don't care what your name is, I'm not here to upset you about your familial relations, and I'm sorry if I brought something up that you would rather not hear." Belgium was taken aback at the sanity of the Belarusian.

"That's fine, I guess."

"Katyusha! I said, go!" snapped Belarus as Ukraine hovered. The Ukrainian, carrying the now unconscious Romano, smiled reassuringly at her and turned to leave.

"Wait!"

"However, Janssens - or can I call you Alice?"

Belgium giggled. "Use of first names kind of takes away from the fact that we are circling each other with pointy objects both trying to incapacitate the other."

"I see your point - _Janssens_. I hope you are good with that sword. I haven't had a decent fight in years." Belarus tensed and flung herself at her fellow female nation.


	16. Luxembourg's Clear Explanation

Outside Belgium's house, Ukraine was worried. Well, she was usually worried, but even more so now, with an unconscious Italian in her arms and her sister fighting inside the house. What was she going to do? It was then that she decided to phone her dear friend.

"Katyusha? Not heard from you in a while! …Wait, you're not trying to get my brother are you? He's south, I'm Canada."

"I… was trying to just reach you, M-M-" Ukraine froze as she desperately tried to recall the name. "M-Mykhailo?"

The was silence. Then Canada laughed nervously. "S-sorry, I don't speak Ukrainian."

Thank God, he'd thought that was Ukrainian. She'd have to desperately recall his name, but she had time. "I, my brother! Vanya! He's…"

"Ivan? What's he doing?"

"He's… trying to regain Gilbert!"

Ukraine sniffed as Canada reassured her through the phone. "Yeah, I know," he said soothingly. "There was a meeting."

"Well, yes, but he's… going too far!" said Ukraine, threatening to burst into tears again. "He's set me to follow Romano! And N-Natalya… she threatened Feliks! She might actually hurt him! And then Toris! And I've got Lovino Vargas and I'm supposed to hand him to Ivan and I don't know why! And Natalya is fighting with Alice Janssens-"

"Whoa! Katyusha, you know what he's up to?" Canada gasped. This was extremely important!

"Y-yes…"

* * *

Luxembourg cowered under the table as his sister dropped her sword in defeat. "I'm out of practise," she said self-reprovingly. Belarus snatched up the sword and muttered a quick apology before deftly stabbing a finger into one of Belgium's pressure points, somehow knocking her unconscious. She then scooped her up and walked out of the room with her over the shoulder, only stopping once:

"Sorry," she said to the unconscious figure of the Netherlands. "I didn't know you'd leap that far." She then stalked out.

_What do I do? _thought Luxembourg, panicking. _I do finances, not violence! I should call someone… who can help? Kosovo's too far away to help, what about Estonia or Finland? Lithuania? What do I do?_

Then the phone started ringing. "M-_moien_. It's Luxembourg here…"

"Who?"

"One of the three Benelux countries, Yann Van Dijk-Janssens, The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, younger brother to Abel Van Dijk, the Netherlands and to Alice Janssens, Belgium," rattled off Luxembourg, used to having to explain thoroughly who he was.

"_Ay_, I know you! It's Antonio Fernandez Carriedo here-"

"_VILLMOLS MERCI_! Oh, _villmols merci_! I need your help."

"Is that what Alice called me for?" asked Spain.

"Kind of. Lovino Vargas was just here," said Luxembourg. "He came over here straight from Madrid."

"Really? He never comes to Madrid! He's finally warming up to me-"

"No, you don't get it. He was invited there, apparently by you."

"What? I wouldn't invite Lovi to Madrid when I wasn't there."

"Exactly. While he was there he was stalked by someone who turned out to be Katyusha Braginskaya, who was doing it for either her brother or sister - I'm a bit iffy on the details - but before she could reach him he fled and came across to my sister's house where me and my big brother were already. We had waffles and Lovino told us about what happened. Alice decided to phone you and find out whether you had felt any nations in your country. Before she came back, Feliks Łukasiewicz broke in while running away from Natalya Arlovskaya but then she threw a knife through the window and Katyusha and her came in. My brother was knocked unconscious and then she kidnapped Lovino, saying she was going to take him to Ivan Braginsky. Before they could leave, Alice came back and totally got into a knife-sword fight with Natalya while Katyusha left with Lovino, who was unconscious. Natalya beat Alice and took her with her. Then I was still there, not knowing what to do and you phoned the house."

"…That was the most clear explanation of events for a complicated situation I've heard so far concerning these events. Well done, ah, Yann was it?"

Luxembourg flinched. "Austria?"

"Is Abel still unconscious?" asked the clipped tones of England.

Luxembourg checked. "_Jo_, he is."

"We'll be over soon, Yann. Don't worry," said Hungary nicely. "We'll find your sister and Lovino."

"_Oui_, soon, _mon cher_."

"What he said, _bis bald_."

The beeping told Luxembourg that they had hung up. "Um… all right then… hey Abel! Wake up!"

* * *

America sat in the President's chair. The President was out, he could sit here if he wanted to. It looked awesome while you contemplated stuff. Canada came in, knowing that America would be there. He waited for a little while until America had decided on his plan of action.

"Screw this, Europe, here I come! The hero is not getting left out of the action! Canada, you can be my sidekick!"

"I don't want to be your sidekick…" muttered Canada. He was busy being worried about Ukraine and Prussia. "Alfred, I know what's happening, Ka-"

"Let's go!" said America. "Here comes the cavalry… England. Ah crap, why the hell am I thinking of him… ah, whatever, let's go!"

Humming the theme from an Western, America slammed through doors while Canada followed unwillingly.

"Hero time!" he sang to the tune. "Duuum duuuuumm… _duuum_, dum! Duuum _duuummm_… _dum_ duuuuumm! Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-_DE_-dooooo _- dum _duuummmm_…_!"

"Enough with that," said Canada wearily. "Fine, let's go."

"Hell yeah! Hey, dude, recognise the tune? One of my awesome films!" said America confidently. "I'm sure it is, Al," said Canada wearily.

"…Dude, I was hoping you'd remember where it came from."

"You've forgotten," said Canada.

"No way, I've not!" squeaked America. "Europe! Okay, let's go fight some co-"

"Before you say 'communists', Ivan isn't communist anymore."

"Dude, I totally wasn't going to say 'communist'. What do you take me for, an idiot?"

"…You were talking about making the move to Europe."

"Yeah, let's go!"

* * *

"Someone just claimed one of my western films was completely American, _che palle_!" wailed Romano, gaining consciousness.

"Shut up," snapped Belarus, who had caught up with her sister, who was carrying Belgium. Romano fell back into blissful unconsciousness.

"Ivan will be pleased."

* * *

England clicked his mobile closed and said, in a strange tone: "Alfred F. Jones wishes for me to tell you all that the hero is coming.

"And we shall meet in Moscow."


	17. Switzerland's Grudging Allegiance

They had picked up Luxembourg and the Netherlands as promised. The house was in a state, and the smashed window made them wince. Belarus had really smashed it up good. There was one unexpected element though.

"West?" hissed Prussia. "What are you doing here?" Everyone felt the uncomfortable aura around them and all left the room simultaneously.

Germany turned around, his stomach feeling tight. "_Ost_…" he said quietly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"I think you made your feelings pretty clear about me, West," said Prussia harshly. "Don't worry."

The Netherlands and Luxembourg came in and promptly left again. "_Ost_, _bitte_. I can't have you hate me now."

"Hate? Who said I hated you, West?" But Prussia's question went unanswered and unnoticed.

"Veneziano has gone missing from his villa. Enquiries showed that a pale-haired, tall imposing man with a fixed smile came to his house right before he disappeared."

Prussia's blood ran cold. "What?"

"If Ivan Braginsky has Veneziano and he asks me to do nothing, I can do nothing but nothing! I'm sorry _Ost_, but-"

"Forget it. Everyone's been put through hell and it's because of me that Ivan's doing it. I've got to take responsibility, it's not awesome to leave your men in battle while you stay on the sidelines."

"What! You can't be- I refuse to let you do this! You're _Ostdeutschland_, it would-" Prussia turned and left the room but not before turning his head awesomely to the side and remarking:

"I'm half of _Deutschland_. Therefore, you can't order me about, _Westdeutschland_," he said, keeping his badass posture before whipping his head back around.

"_Ost_, I didn't mean-"

The door slammed. That could have gone a whole lot more awesomely.

* * *

The party advanced across Europe, not stopping for anyone. While crossing their own nation, they would help the land go by faster as they strode awesomely in what would have appeared as a dramatic montage in a film with close-ups of steely determined faces and silent vigils at night with pain in Spanish, Dutch and German eyes as the old enemies sat around the metaphorical campfire united in worry.

They passed through Germany, where, surprisingly, Switzerland joined them, bringing Liechtenstein's good wishes with him. Austria hugged him tightly when he admitted that he had found them to join them. Switzerland did not blush at all. And if he did, it was with rage. Yes. That's why Hungary was mentally anguished between choosing the men or her man.

Then through Austria and Hungary, through the Ukraine. They found her there, crying and begging for forgiveness, telling them all she knew about Russia's plans. They left her there too, but not before they told her that America was coming.

"And M… Martyn too? No, that's not it. I must find out his name before I see him again…"

From there, it was a straight line to Moscow. Poland joined them as they passed the border, swearing that he would free Lithuania if it was the last thing he did.

"Circumstances make strange bedfellows," remarked England one night.

Moscow awaited.

* * *

Tomorrow, they were to arrive at Russia's house. Poland and Hungary, being great friends, were chatting or gossiping or whatever it was they were doing. Switzerland was attempting to not enter a conversation with Austria, but failed when Austria brought up the question of how Liechtenstein was. England was reading a book while France tried to distract him by making suggestive comments.

Spain was talking about Romano. About the tomato fields and about how Romano would smile when he did so. He reminded the Netherlands that they had once lived together. Wasn't Romano cute back then?

The Netherlands, once he had loosened up slightly, helped by a suspicious item he smoked, talked about Belgium. About how he was so angry at her for fighting against him, for declaring independence. He wanted her to be safe, he admitted grudgingly, and was silent afterwards for a long time until Prussia broke out a few beers. He wished he'd not taken it for granted that she would always be there, just _zusje _complaining and making the best waffles in the world.

Germany was mainly quiet. He shared a tale about Italy's uselessness and sheer uniqueness sometimes. He'd never find someone else like Italy. He also was worried about Prussia, and hoped he wasn't going to do something stupid he'd regret.

Prussia was always silent, stealing a suspicious cigarette or two from the Netherlands and smoking it outside, gazing into the night. Luxembourg came out once. "Ludwig does care about you. Even if he doesn't show it like a normal person. Big brother's like that too. I'm pretty sure that's why big sister left."

Prussia was silent. Luxembourg sighed. "You're going to give yourself over to Ivan." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"_Ja_."

"Just to let you know, people will miss you if you go over."

"If I go, nothing will happen to _Ostdeutschland_. It will stay with West."

"I wasn't talking about the land, Gilbert," Luxembourg reprimanded.

"Would you rather your big sister and the Italies and Toris stayed trapped there?"

Luxembourg bowed his head. "I want all of you outside, even Ivan. I want us all to be friends, believe it or not."

"Like that'll happen."

"A few years ago that wall tore the world in two. It wasn't ever going to fall, like that would ever happen," said Luxembourg, smiling. "If _we_ live without hope, we have no humanity left."

"We're not human."

"But we are. Physically to a point, mentally to a point."

Prussia threw his cigarette to the ground and stamped out the glow. "I guess. I'm going inside."

Luxembourg's smile faded away. "Okay… j-just think about it, okay? Don't be rash. They were saying that you were so pissed off at the idea of going back to Russia. And now you're… I mean, come on! There has to be another way."

Luxembourg shut up when the door slammed. "Ow…"

* * *

"Dude, how long are they going to _be?_"

"They're crossing Europe by land. We took a plane. Do the mathematics, bro."

America ignored Canada.


	18. Russia's Motive Rant That Isn't A Rant

**Aaah! Sorry I'm late with the uploading :( **

**The fic's nearing its end. **

* * *

Belgium and Romano were both sitting in chairs, being offered vodka and borscht.

They had not expected this.

"Don't worry, comrades!" said Russia cheerfully, finding it hard to drop the 'comrade' when he had used the expression for so long. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want some? It's good. You believe me, _da_?"

"_Da_," whimpered Romano.

Belgium was made of sterner stuff. "Why have you taken us?" she asked. "It's not as though we can tell anybody else here, you may as well tell us why we've been dragged from home. And there's always a motive rant in movies."

"Hm. _Da_, you are right, comrade," decided Russia. "…You see, I've been lonely, _da_? Ever since the USSR collapsed, everybody is continuously leaving me, one by one. I know that they will all leave soon and I shall be completely alone. I know what it is to have no comrades, like when I was a little child. It is a lonely place.

"And then I hear something wonderful. My old comrade, the GDR has run away from Germany. I realise that I have a chance. A chance to not be lonely. I am not stupid, I realise that many shall stand in my way. So I plan to take out the likely targets. I set up a meeting for them and discover who exactly stands against me. And I discover Ludwig Beilshmidt, Francis Bonnefoy, Antonio Carriedo and Alfred Jones all are the obstacles.

"I have planned and it all slips into place. At the meeting, I had a person to have as a hostage for everyone there. A plan for every possibility. The obvious is Ludwig Beilshmidt. I take Veneziano Vargas from his villa and let him live here. Ludwig Beilshmidt is suddenly quiet."

"You've got _fratello _here?" asked Romano. "W-what have you done to him?"

"Sibling loyalty is a good trait, _da_? Though too much is _terrifying _and _unwanted_." Russia paused to shiver. "Veneziano Vargas is currently eating specially ordered pasta from Tuscany. Aren't you, comrade Veneziano?"

"This is... nice, Vanya! But I can still believe it was made by a Russian..." said Italy from across the room. Belgium and Romano both jumped. Not noticing Italy was creepy.

"Hm? What do you mean?" asked Russia, but was thankfully distracted.

"_Fratellino_! You're safe… wait, 'Vanya'?"

"I have no quarrel with him. So please, do not worry about him and stay quiet, please?"

Russia paced in front of them.

"An alliance between Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Carriedo to protect Gilbert Beilshmidt? Simple and expected. All it takes is subtle threats against Toris Lorinaitis who agrees to play the part of hostage to prompt Feliks Łukasiewicz to act how I tell him to. I set my little sister to watch him and make sure he does nothing to put his friend at risk. He wouldn't be a very good friend if he did that, would he?"

"Eh? You had it all planned out…"

"And he does nothing bad. He convinces Francis Bonnefoy to send a prank letter to Antonio Carriedo, telling him of fictional plans of GDR's to kidnap and do certain acts of violence to comrade Lovino here."

"Wait, whoa, what?" yelled Romano, who was ignored.

"Just as planned, Antonio Carriedo is filled with rage - however, unplanned, not one day goes by before they have discovered the truth from one another. An unfortunate turn; I had hoped that Antonio Carriedo would refuse to listen. Perhaps I was mistaken about his feelings towards comrade Lovino."

Again, Romano repeated: "Wait, what-"

"I asked for quiet, did I not, comrade?"

"I apologise, comrade," said Romano quickly, earning a shake of the head from Belgium who asked slowly:

"If I might interrupt, how do you know this?"

Russia laughed heartily. "Oh, you are all so naïve! I bugged everyone at the meeting, silly. Micro-technology is amazing, _nyet_? You can't even tell what is in your ear… eye… on the tips of your glasses… pasted onto your skin…"

Romano and Belgium shivered in unison.

"I stray from the point. One left: Alfred Jones. A thorn in my side for a long time, I planned to use Arthur Kirkland to help him see reason."

Russia frowned.

"Again, my plan deviates from its path. Unfortunately, the man I had hoped to call comrade leaves the meeting before I can talk to him to free Gilbert Beilshmidt. I have no way to influence Alfred Jones. Not even Matthew Williams, he is close to someone every time I attempt to take him, be it comrade Gilbert or Alfred Jones.

"And now I discover that a group that grows ever larger advances eastwards across Europe to defeat me. And I have nothing else to stop them but what I can think of on the spot. I had Toris. The Vargas brothers are here and now comrade Alice Jenssens. You were not meant to be taken and I'm afraid that I have drawn in yet more to my defeat with meeting you, comrade. I am sorry for that," he said genuinely. "I panicked and hoped to salvage my chances.

"A sad end, _nyet_? It almost makes one want to laugh." Russia smiled sadly. "It is over. They are to be here by tonight. Please, don't be scared of me. There's nothing I can do to either of you that wouldn't be inflicted on me by my new rivals."

There was a beeping noise and Russia checked his phone. "They have reached _Moscva_. I must leave for now. Is there anything you want? I'll get someone to bring it…"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," said Belgium. "…Lovino?"

"No…"

"Are you sure _fratello_? This pasta's actually really good!"

"Not if it's Tuscan."

"Suit yourself, _fratello_~"

* * *

The group walked through the streets, following the map to Russia's house. England looked up from it. His heart nearly stopped when he saw blonde hair, blue eyes and that finally-technically-accurate jacket.

"Alfred."

"Arthur, man! What's up?"

England suddenly remembered the conversation that France had held with him. He blushed and turned his face away. "N-nothing much."

"Gilbert, where's Katyusha?" Canada asked Prussia.

Prussia pointed west and grinned awkwardly. "The Ukraine. Don't think she wanted to bring her brother down."

"Oh. That makes sense…"

"_Ja_… you like her. Don't you, Matt."

Austria coughed. "Now's not the time-"

Prussia glared at him and continued. "When this is over, Matt. When this is over, you're going to go and tell her that you love her, 'kay?" All Canada could do was nod sheepishly.

"Okay. Canada's with the Ukraine now."

"…Okay," said Austria. "Don't tell me you're going to start playing matchmaker-"

"Feliks, like, totally can have Toris, Alfred's with Arthur, for the time being anyway-"

America's face heated up at the same rate as England's. They both started spluttering incoherently.

Hungary squealed happily. Prussia was actually doing something nice for a change! Nice for her! Sure, she'd been hoping for a little more loving from this newcomer Canada with Prussia, but hey, she'd been hoping for some America-England action for quite some time. Prussia noticed her 'squee' and shook his head.

"-Not even the awesome me can tell what's going on with you and the Austrian and his UST buddy over there." Switzerland and Austria both protested against this violently. Switzerland with a gun. He was calmed down eventually by Austria, giving Prussia the opportunity to give the group his 'see what I mean?' look. He moved on.

"Hey, Abel… nah, I don't know. West. You have Veneziano. Don't screw this one up. Antonio, you can be Lovino's hero, baby! Francis… I just don't know. You don't really have anyone. I'll think about it later. No wait! You can take the one who falls out of that threesome over there. I don't really care."

"What the hell! You… we're not-"

"Vash! Please calm down! You're being extremely irrational! Put the gun down!"

"And young Luxie here. What the hell, just screw Liechtenstein when you're old enough."

"GHHAAAAHH!"

"VASH! NO!"

* * *

"Hello, friends," said Russia. "Welcome to _Moscva_. Ah… everything is all right, _da_?" he asked innocently, staring at the enraged Swiss strangling the East German-Prussian hybrid.

"Ah! Comrade GDR! You came, _da_?"

"_Ja_," said Prussia, more seriously than anyone being strangled should be.

"Vash… _please _let go of Gilbert," said Austria. Hungary's gaze was jumping between the ex-friends. Switzerland, eyes still containing BURNING RAGE, dropped his hands and after another death glare he turned away from Prussia.

"Fine."

"You have been travelling for a long time, comrades? You seem tired. You are perfectly welcome to rest for a while here."

"No. None of your commie tricks, you red-"

"Alfred," hissed England, grabbing America's arm. "Leave it, we're in his capital. And it's also impolite."

"_Da_, what you say is true, comrade Kirkland." England went pale. _Oh dear. He saw me. _

"Ah, Alfred Jones, I am happy that you seem to have taken my advice on resolving your issues with comrade Kirkland," Russia said happily.

"Don't look at him," said America suspiciously, clinging onto England.

_Please let go of me, it hurts. _

"Well, comrade Kirkland seems to want you to stop clinging to him, Alfred Jones. If I were in your position, I would follow his-"

America clung tighter. "Why should I do what you're saying? Why the hell are you wearing glasses? Whatever it is you're saying. I don't speak Red."

"Um… it does hurt, Alfred, please could you…" England said quietly and urgently. America let go.

Spain - who was quite agitated - stepped up and said, with his best conquistador-slash-inquisitor voice: "Hey, Ivan! Can-"

"It is getting late, _nyet_?" said Russia, ignoring the Spaniard. "How about we go and see our comrades now?"

Spain wilted. "No-one… expects… meeee… wait!" Then he realised that they were going to see the Italians and Belgium. "_Sí_!"


	19. Seborga's Conclusion

As soon as the door opened, Spain dived in.

"About time, _bastardo_! I've been here forever!" Romano greeted Spain with the tender tone that they were so used to. "Damn it! It's your fault I'm here!"

"Lo~o~vi~i~… wait, really? Why?"

Before anyone could answer, the Netherlands stormed in. Like a storm. "Where. Is. _België_?" he asked in a tone that reminded America of a film he had once seen.

"Abel?" asked Belgium from her cell. "You came?"

"Well… _ja_. Obviously... Yann came too, it wasn't just me."

"…Oh. Okay, thanks for coming to save me! Well, I'd have hoped you would. I mean, I _was_ the _only _one who tried to stop her and save both your asses since you were both out for the count."

"I was unconscious. I couldn't help it."

"By head-butting a wall?" added Luxembourg, regretting entering the conversation when his brother gave him a glare of doom.

"I told you. Not to. Mention that."

"Heart-warming as this sibling re-union is…" said England snidely, "We have everybody now."

"Yeah!" said Canada quietly. "We can… leave… now… right…?"

He was interrupted by a powerful yell. "ITALIEN!"

"VE~ VE~ GERMANYYYY~!"

"LET GO OF MY BROTHER, POTATO!"

"Bwaha hahaha! It looks like everyone got a happy ending. And it's all thanks to the awesome me." Gilbert leant against a pale wall and viewed the happy scenes with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. They'd better be all grateful to him.

"If it isn't the old GDR. Come to visit your old comrade… Gilbert?"

Gilbert stopped breathing. That voice… "Ivan." He turned around to look at his old enemy, old ally, old comrade. "Ivan Braginsky."

"Ha, ha~. It is good to know your little brain hasn't lost my name."

"Little? Don't you 'little' me… you're just insanely tall!"

"It's been a long time, Gilbert."

"Finally decided to drop the 'comrade' after all this time?"

"The world has changed, Gilbert Beilshmidt."

"Getting polite too? What is the world coming to?"

"Oh? Was I not polite before?"

"Well… yeah, I guess so. But you were creepier before."

"Hm~? I'm not 'creepy' anymore?"

"Hmph. Not really, no. Guess a change in system changes the aura."

"You think this?"

"Meh, not really. You're just being polite 'cause you know the first 'kolkolkol' and we're outta here."

"Well, I shall not 'kolkolkol' then. I did not plan to. Ha ha~"

"…Sure you didn't."

The sparring match of words drew to a unsteady draw, as the rescuers and rescued began to filter out of the rooms.

"Oh…? They are not staying to dinner? And I prepared such fine borscht and vodka… a pity."

"They just know you'll snap. Just like you always did back then."

Russia's face fell. "I have… changed. I really have, Katyusha said so. And she would just say nothing if she thought I hadn't. Sure, she gets sad and cries and… well, she never comes to dinner, not even when I make borscht. Which makes me so sad I sometimes turn off power to the Ukraine. You know, life. What was I talking about?"

"Hm. I guess Katyusha wouldn't lie. But what about Natalya-?"

"_Please don't talk about Natalya_. She's obsessed with me! Don't tell me you've _forgotten_?"

"Baltics?" Russia looked at Prussia. "Guess not. Wow. You really are lonely aren't you? Trying to kidnap someone for company."

"Well, kidnap is a strong word. Taken without permission."

"…O_kay_… maybe I was hasty when I said you weren't creepy anymore. Man… but this is so anticlimactic. There should've been an awesome battle with _sacrifice _and _pain _and _tears_. This totally sucks. We're just discussing our feelings and shit like you're not a pscycho."

"…I like it."

"You're also insane."

"Hm, _da_. But I'm better than I was before. And you see? It's not all bad! Together we've helped the love lives of several countries! Which is important, right?"

"…Wasn't it just the awesome me who helped them along?"

"_Nyet_, _nyet_, I offered advice to America."

"Well, I _said _to him that he loved Arthur."

"Well, _mes amis_, it was I who informed _cher l'Angleterre _that 'e totally wanted _l'Amerique_, _n'est ce pas_?" said France smoothly cutting into the conversation. "But I was impressed that such a seemingly coarse and unfeeling man such as yourself, Gilbert, could notice the…'ow you say… spark of _l'amour_. _Mon petit Canada _and_ l'Ukraine_. Though all could see but them, _l'Amerique_ and _l'Angleterre_. _La Pologne _and _la Lituanie_! _Ton petit fr__ère _and one _l'Italie_! _L'Espagne_ and the other _l'Italie_! But, _moi_, I am capable of finding _l'amour_ wherever I go! So-"

"… _Ja_, _ja_, _ja_, and the point of that rant was…?"

"I am impressed with you!" said France, smiling. The smile turned dark, "But don't take my job or else."

"_Ja_, we get it. Thanks, Francis," said Prussia, not wanting to hear more of his ravings of love.

"We are going, so… we'll be outside, _oui_?" France pranced outside, presumably to inform the nations outside that Prussia had awesomely sorted out into pairs on the best ways to physically put love into practice.

…Prussia had been spending way too much time with the Bad Touch Trio. He knew France way too well. "Well, I guess everyone's leaving. See ya, psycho."

Russia smiled cutely. "D-_da_."

"Wait, though," said Prussia, realising something. "What're you going to do with those mind-readers?"

Russia's smile grew. "Hee hee hee~"

"…Creepy bastard. Well, I guess Luddy's always looking for ways to make up for the war so he doesn't feel like he has to cry into his pillow every night before going to sleep."

Russia looked confused. Prussia pouted. "I'm asking you if you want to come over to dinner! For fuck's sake! Read between the lines!"

"Really?"

"…Actually, bring Katyusha too, I don't trust you on your own."

"Okay!"

* * *

And thus, the tale of the mind reading binoculars ended.

"Wait, wait, wait."

Hm?

"Don't you realise how many plot threads you left hanging?" asked Sealand.

"Hey, I just heard about it from my brothers. They're not the best storytellers," said Seborga defensively. "You hear me, Wy?"

"…Where did the binoculars go? What about the pair Kiku made? What about Natalya threatening him?" asked Wy.

"You're breaking my heart. Fine. Um… well, Ivan called Natalya off, I think… Kiku's worked, they'd been changed into the glasses that Ivan was wearing-"

"You never said he was wearing glasses!"

"Yes I did! Alfred mentioned that he was wearing glasses in passing!"

"You did not!"

"Guys, don't fight!" Wy snapped. "So, Ivan's still got his? Creepy… but anyway, what about the original pair?"

"Ludwig confiscated them, saying he'd smash them into little pieces if Gilbert tried to get them back."

"And after Roderich had fixed them and all… harsh."

"But necessary. They were dangerous, man. But he was sulking in their basement for weeks."

"But Ivan still has his!"

"Oh, Katyusha nicked them in revenge for shutting off her power too many times."

"…You just contradicted yourself!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Well, anyway," Wy interrupted. "Did Roderich and Elizaveta ever… you know, find out what they wanted to know?"

"Nope. Lizzie's just gotta stick with those comics she buys from Kiku. And Roddy, well, yeah, nothing came of it. They're still in their UST triangle with Vash, though, I can tell you that for certain."

"Did Katyusha and that guy whose name I forget…"

"…Can't really remember. Maybe. I think so."

"What about the rest of Gilbert's shippings?"

"Antonio didn't really take the hint about being Lovino's hero. You've gotta be blunt with the man - poor _fratello_. Ludwig and Feliciano, on the other hand are… still not going anywhere. Yeah. _Weird_. You'd have thought something would have happened by now, it's been what, eleven hundred years?"

"Ludwig is not the Holy Roman Empire!" yelled Sealand.

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too."

"What about the rest?" said Wy.

"Ah, well, Feliks wants Toris, Toris wants Natalya. Before you ask, no. Not even Alfred and Arthur got it on. The lesson here is to not leave a German to decide pairings," said the Seborgan, "It's the job of the romantics."

"And after all the figuring out of emotions between them…" said Wy wistfully.

"Meh," said Seborga. "I'm more of a FrUKer."

"What are you talking about? England-slash-Japan for the win!" said Sealand angrily.

"Don't you two get into an argument over this! Even I think that there should have been more to the whole America-slash-England, and I'm a diehard Ameripan and England-slash-China fan! And-"

"Uh, Wy? You know there's a world meeting tomorrow being held here and it's four in the morning," said a man. Wy squeaked.

"Uh, sorry Aussie, I just…"

"That's fine, just keep it down."

Wy turned back to her computer screen.

"A world meeting tomorrow? Mum and Dad never tell me stuff!" said Sealand.

Wy looked at Seborga who was smiling. "A world meeting, hm? Ludwig shall be out of his house… perfect."

"What is it?"

Oh, nothing, nothing!"

Soon, three micronations would have a powerful invention in their hands, truly originating form South Korea.

But they would never top the awesome one's tale of awesomeness. And yes. Dinner with Ivan wasn't that bad.

**The Awesome End.**


End file.
